And there's plenty more where that came from. For proof, pick virtually any track: the sound barrier-bursting anthem "Almost Crimes", the subdued, gossamer "Looks Just like the Sun", the Dinosaur Jr.-tinted "Cause = Time", or the shimmering, Jeff Buckley-esque "Lover's Spit". Who could have imagined it would come so easily? You Forgot It in People explodes with song after song of endlessly replayable, perfect pop. the whole ideology of trying to write an actual four-minute pop song was completely new to so many of us." One of its members told a Toronto weekly that "we'd already made our art-house albums. Zion, and Mascott with the unified goal of making, of all things, pop music. I knew from the liners that the group has ten members (fifteen if you include guests) what I didn't know was that all of them have been wandering from band to band within the wildly experimental Toronto music scene for years, or that they all came together from groups like Stars, Do Make Say Think, Treble Charger, A Silver Mt. I've been listening to this disc for months on repeat- sometimes just this disc for days- but it wasn't until I began doing research for this review that it began to make sense how a band like this could materialize from out of nowhere with such a powerful and affecting album. All I know is that when I press play, and this disc whirrs to life, it inexplicably sheds its crybaby façade and becomes.
I've been over it again and again looking for some cause, some reason, anything, that would compel a band with this much unfiltered creativity and kinetic energy- a band without even the slightest suggestion of tear-stained poetry or bedroom catharsis- to fall victim to the worst possible Vagrant Records clichés. But this disc is nothing like you'd imagine. No one wants to admit that they like a band that goes around calling themselves this- a band who, judging from their artwork, stands around all day looking pensive, crouching, and feeling the music in dramatic grayscale, a band that finds its home on Arts & Crafts/Paper Bag Records, who puts the message "break all codes" above their own barcode, and who dedicates their album to their "families, friends and loves." I already had them pegged! How could they not be the most unimaginative, bleak, whiny emo bastards in the whole pile?
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