It’s midterms season, I’ve retreated to the stacks with a mug of green tea and a looming stack of psych notes, and I’m sick of everything on my iPod. I want to listen to something mellow, something with easily dismissible lyrics that’s still pleasant enough to comfort me as I descend into a hell of sodium pumps, acetylcholine, and nigrostriatal pathways. Three-plus hours of Broken Social Scene, with their muted lyrics and pretty melodies, was once ideal for situations like this.
