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By Jen White

Arts & Entertainment Editor

I like Broken Social Scene.

I never thought that’d be a statement that would hurt my indie rock cred. And really, I still don’t totally think it does — I like to believe that my rock-critic peers are merely jealous of BSS’s raw talent.

Sure, it’s easier to be a talented group when you have 17 members in your band — you win by law of averages alone. But listen to You Forgot It In People, and I dare you to find one note that’s out of place.

And like a fine wine (yes, I’m going with cheese here, because it goes well with wine), the Scenesters have only gotten better with age. Listen to their latest self-titled effort, and just watch as the music pours over you, from the horns on “Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Day)” that make me smile on sunny days, to the undeniable driving beat of “Windsurfing Nation.”

Yes, it can be that powerful — if you let it. Whatever happened to liking music for music? I get reasons for disliking Broken Social Scene ranging anywhere from ‘They are so full of themselves’ and ‘So-and-so is an asshole,’ to ‘They’re everywhere lately and I’m sick of it’ and ‘It’s not music if they just throw some instruments together haphazardly.’ If these are the only thoughts that you associate with BSS, you are missing the point.

And while I understand that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, I find that the indie kids these days are just afraid to give in to the raging river that is popular culture. Just because BSS have hit it kinda big doesn’t mean that their previous albums sound any different. It’s just so silly to worship an underground band so much, to merely dispose of them when others see the talent that you’ve known about for so long. Well, you know what?

That’s not going to stop me, partly because I am a fan through and through, and partly because I am stubborn. I’m not afraid of losing my indie cred. Hell, I like Bon Jovi. Yes folks, you heard it right here. I’ve listened to the Jon Bon since I was a kid and I will never forget singing along to Crossroads for hours on end. I’ve loved the bad medicine, the blaze of glory, and a little shot through the heart never hurt nobody.

So when I see him on stage this week, I will sing my little heart out, and I will yell for Richie Sambora to play his rockin’ guitar solos out to the mountains like never before. My boyfriend has the unlucky pleasure of sitting next to me through all of this.

“God save his soul,” you’re probably saying. Don’t feel that bad; he bought me the tickets. Also, he’s just like you: I know he’s saying “Oh dear God” on the outside, but his inner Jovi will shine through at the show. And I won’t let him blame it on the booze.

So I’m just gonna throw this out there: Music-lovers, be true to the music you love. Let your inner Jovi out!

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