"We're here to warm you up and keep the rain away. Here's one for the sun god." This was what Broken Social Scene's lead singer Kevin Drew said as the band took the stage last Thursday, opening for TV on the Radio at the Williamsburg Waterfront. The night was cool and breezy enough to shoo away the clouds, and with the smallest gesture to the orange sun descending beyond the city, the band opened their set on a high note with "Cause = Time" a favorite from the band’s 2002 album, You Forgot it in People.
There was a casual nostalgia to Broken Social Scene's whole set. The band’s energy level was neither excessive nor lacking, and a natural nonchalance paired eloquently with these Canadian indie music veterans. Despite the waterfront's large stage, the band did not perform in its (current) entirety. Instead, members moseyed on stage midway through songs to add a violin solo, some tambourine, trombone, trumpet, saxophone, spontaneous percussion, or whatever else they were inclined to add. At certain points as many as four guitarists, a bassist, three percussionists, five horns, a violin player, and the lovely Lisa Lobsinger, were all on stage. This was the case during a unique version of the mostly instrumental "KC Accidental," which lasted about eight minutes and had the whole band enjoying themselves and the freedom to mess around with their older songs. Despite the varied array of musicians involved in the band's history, the lineup on Thursday provided the full Broken Social Scene treatment. No one in the band encapsulated that freedom more so than Andrew Whiteman, who had a childlike presence and a mischievous smile. His frequent solos added something special to a performance that lacked little to begin with.
Overall, Broken Social Scene's set was passionate, yet appealingly passive. The band’s tone and addresses to the crowd relayed to us that they would not be performing in New York City again for quite some time. It was strangely sad, but provided an intimacy that was appreciated by the relatively small crowd (compared to what it would be for TV on the Radio just an hour later). They repeatedly thanked their New York fans for all the years of support and ended their set in a chaotic and arrhythmic array of sounds, aptly joking, "We don’t know how to end shit," which left me wondering how long it really would be until the group makes another descent across the border to play NYC.
TV on the Radio entered right on time to a crowd that had increased about fourfold. Since the last time I saw the band at Bonnaroo in 2009, their live performance has seriously improved. Lead singer Tunde Adebimpe concentrated a bit more on singing and looping than dancing, but his characteristic arm flings and long distance stage travel remained true to form. Kyp Malone’s vocal contributions, featured mostly on songs from their 2008 album, Dear Science, still surprised me. The power of his voice echoed from the stage to the water, although at first sight you might not know he was singing at all because of the ease of his stature and the density of his omnipotent beard.
Though they were coming off an intense summer of shows that began with the release of their most recent album, Nine Types of Light, the band was not the least bit fatigued. The entire set was sensual, and intense. The lighting and sound fabricated a psychedelic vibe oddly reminiscent of Jimi Hendrix, with all the requisite funk. The vocal harmonies between Adebimpe and Malone were perfectly on point, and definitely not overdone. The oohs and ahhs Adepbimpe integrates into their songs were clear and perfectly on key, assuring that they would never have a chance of sounding cheesy.
TV on the Radio was flat out charming, showing us all their power and talent while remaining fabulously modest and self-aware. The energy built slowly but consistently, and even the lesser-known songs did not create the lull often apparent at live shows where most of the attendants want to sing along to the tunes that they know. A favorite off their newest album was "Repetition," continuing the tradition of lyrical complexity that lacks pretension, with lines like "Hold it to capital lifestyle heights, got a head full of fever and it feels all right."
It took the band longer than normal to return for an encore, but when they finally did I thought to myself, "It has to be 'DLZ’." And thankfully it was. They opened the three-song encore with this now older song that is, frankly, one of their best. This rhythmically pleasing tune did not disappoint, and left room for them to close with two newer numbers. Adebimpe pointed to their star-covered backdrop, which blew in the breeze from the river throughout the set, and jokingly said, "Gaze into the cosmos. Know that it's yours. That shit is free," drawing laughter from the audience and showing that the band was enjoying every minute of bringing music to an appreciative crowd.
