Broken Social Scene have never operated on anyone else’s clock. They disappear, reassemble, and then return when it actually means something. That pattern holds with Remember The Humans, the Toronto collective’s first new studio album in nearly a decade via Arts & Crafts.
This isn’t a nostalgia play, even if the timeline suggests it could be. The band reunites with producer David Newfeld, the architect behind their early defining records, but the energy here doesn’t feel like a rewind. It feels heavier, more lived-in. The arrangements are still dense and sprawling, a collision of horns, guitars, voices, and electronics, but there’s a clarity underneath it that keeps everything grounded. Melody still cuts through. It always has.
Remember The Humans lands at a moment where that title almost feels pointed. The record leans into tension rather than trying to resolve it. Overstimulation, disconnection, the strange distance of modern life. Instead of spelling it out, the band builds it into the sound itself. Tracks swell toward abstraction, then pull back just enough to remind you there are actual people behind the noise.
The reunion with Newfeld carries its own weight. Their original run together helped define an era of indie rock, but it ended without much closure. Reconnecting years later, under very different circumstances, gives this album a sense of purpose that goes beyond just making another record. There’s grief in the background, but also a kind of release that comes from returning to something unfinished and getting it right.
That dynamic has always been the band’s strength. Broken Social Scene isn’t a fixed lineup so much as a rotating ecosystem. Feist, Lisa Lobsinger, Hannah Georgas, Kevin Drew. Different voices stepping forward, different songs finding their center depending on who’s holding it. No single perspective dominates, and that lack of control is exactly what makes the music feel alive.
After years of algorithm-driven, hyper-optimized output across the industry, Remember The Humans stands out by doing the opposite. It’s not streamlined. It’s not chasing a trend. It’s messy in a way that feels intentional, and more importantly, human.
The release arrives alongside a major North American run, including dates with Metric and stops at venues like The Greek Theatre in Los Angeles, The Masonic in San Francisco, and Brooklyn Paramount. For a band that’s always thrived in a live setting, that matters. These songs are built to expand in a room.
Broken Social Scene didn’t rush this. That’s the point. When they come back, it’s because they have something to say. This time, it’s a reminder that still lands.
Featured image credit: Broken Social Scene
