Despite all its backward-compatible genre revision, today's indie rock is often essentially divorced from history. Appropriating conventions only insofar as they can be subverted, observing tradition only to comment upon the triteness of observing tradition, indie rock is a circuit-breaking shunt disrupting the transmission of heritage that's hardwired into genres such as blues, jazz, and even rock. Instead of tapping into a particular lineage, it tends to pull whatever flapping loose ends dominate the moment into its vortex, inscribing a narrative that begins and ends with its author's experience. If Broken Social Scene is the epitome of indie rock, with its slapdash collective aesthetic, muzzy mélange of songwriting styles, and predilection for abstracting rock until its solid historical thump becomes gaseous and hermetic, then BSS guitarist Jason Collett's solo work is an escape valve venting his pent-up traditionalist urges.
Unlike his first solo album Motor Motel Love Songs, which, as a collection of Collett's early self-released material, was justifiably spotty, Idols of Exile is consistently solid; the songs are fully realized and, ultimately, memorable. Its melancholy yet optimistic worldview and bucolic charm strongly evoke the Band, another group of Canadians toying with the mythology of the American south, and its combination of this sensibility with more spectral touches aligns it with Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. The most significant area of overlap between Broken Social Scene and Collett's solo work is his coarse yet mellifluous voice, which, in this stripped-down context, reveals itself as a formidable instrument, confident and nuanced, capable of complex volleys of blue notes and monolithically soaring choruses.
Predictably, Idols of Exile is fleshed out by a revolving cast of Arts & Crafts regulars. Amy Millan and Kevin Drew contribute harmonies to "Fire", which uses grandiose symbols to allude to basic longings, a shivering synth and a variety of chiming rhythmic elements buffeting Collett's voice as it breaks like Jeff Tweedy's: "I know you just want to be on fire." Standout track "We All Lose One Another" opens with an echo of Smashing Pumpkins' "Disarm", then a rolling wave of acoustic guitar, violin, and piano carries Collett's vocal toward a triumphant chorus. Leslie Feist sings back-up on the crunchy country stomper "Hangover Days", and Apostle of Hustle's Andrew Whiteman embroiders its rude fuzz-bass with prickly electric guitar solos. Over the course of Idols of Exile, the classic rock idiom that Collett helps to dismantle with Broken Social Scene is reassembled piece by piece. The record humbly takes its place in history's queue: Perhaps not what BSS fans are looking for, but, weighed against the impulse for continuity instead of disjunction, deeply satisfying.
