Broken Social Scenes

Ahh... The Chit-Chat forum. Please have all chatting here.

Moderator: The Lounge Moderators

Post Reply
User avatar
Brad
Veteran
Posts: 1226
Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2003 1:46 am
Contact:

Broken Social Scenes

Post by Brad »

Anyone heard of them? They're my guilty-pleasure-of-the-moment.
Democracy. It rolls off the tongue nicely. Better than others. I can say it, spell it, define it, but can?t admit to ever believing it. So convoluted has it become that it has mesmerized generations into a comma of perfect sublimity. You dance to the music of your youth, identify with your own memory, become a time capsule of numb comfort. And there, mired in the exhaustion of a life in progress, you surrender your right to question for the luxury of not being bothered.



- Matt Good
User avatar
Shwynsh
Veteran
Posts: 3926
Joined: Sat May 03, 2003 10:28 am
Contact:

Re: Broken Social Scenes

Post by Shwynsh »

I've heard of them.... vaguley..
<span style=\'color:gray\'

.

.

.

.

.

.

"I have a feeling that you're riding for some kind of a terrible, terrible fall. . . . This fall I think you're riding for-it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started"
User avatar
Brad
Veteran
Posts: 1226
Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2003 1:46 am
Contact:

Re: Broken Social Scenes

Post by Brad »

Just went to their concert the other night. It was awesome. Immense fun.
Democracy. It rolls off the tongue nicely. Better than others. I can say it, spell it, define it, but can?t admit to ever believing it. So convoluted has it become that it has mesmerized generations into a comma of perfect sublimity. You dance to the music of your youth, identify with your own memory, become a time capsule of numb comfort. And there, mired in the exhaustion of a life in progress, you surrender your right to question for the luxury of not being bothered.



- Matt Good
Post Reply