“I Like It All That Way” – Why Broken Social Scene’s ‘Lover’s Spit’ Works

The Canadian collective’s antepenultimate track on 2002’s You Forgot It in People is the ultimate gem when it comes to anti-love songs.

Whether we think about the best love songs, there always lives a sense of grand gesture.  An unwavering dedication of eternal devotion, an inability to picture your life without a partner, the need for immediate affection, we always wish for our relationship to be life-defining. It’s what helps to define a lot of shows, films, and songs on popular culture; it gives us this idyllic model for us to work our relationship towards.

While it’s a cute idea in theory, real life always finds our preconceived notions to be tested on a regular basis. Video essays start to commentate on the representation of love in rom coms with criticisms aimed toward signals and tropes that are toxic. Growing awareness on issues like codependency puts a reevaluation on how we perceive love especially when it comes to fears like regret or over-reliance. Even everyday problems like finances can be a good enough reason for the relationship to break apart regardless of how strongly the two feel about each other.

Perhaps the biggest complicating factor in love is the normalised acceptance of sex in most of society. What was once the pinnacle of purity if someone is a virgin is now but a laughable theory from a bygone era. The hook-up culture is the go-to hobby for many who want to loosen up or fulfil their libido ever since the sexual revolution from the 1960s. As more psychological and philosophical enquiries try to define what love is, lust starts to rise up to make a distinction between physical and emotional attraction. People can now make love to each other without feeling ‘in love’ with each other, if that makes sense. 

All of a sudden, imagining an ideal relationship takes more than just saying three words to that special someone. There are nuances and boundaries that you need to take into account and manage as feelings are no longer enough of a reason for a couple to remain together. It doesn’t matter if you want your heartstruck feeling to last forever because some couples opt to break up when it’s clear that their differences mean that being together is incompatible with their happiness. Especially if it’s down to physical attraction, what’s not to resist for a one night stand?

This is when Broken Social Scene’s ‘Lover’s Spit’ comes in. 2002’s You Forgot It in People is lauded as the Canadian collective’s magnum opus. It’s a sprawling series of artsy indie rock gems from riveting slacker rock like ‘Almost Crimes’ to atmospheric chamber pop such as ‘Anthem for a Seventeen Year-Old Girl’. With no unifying concept to rally around, three of the tracks tackle love from different angles in the end. ‘I’m Still Your Fag’ is the bitter account of having a intense one-off relationship while hiding in the closet while ‘Pitter Patter Goes My Heart’ attempts to mimic the sensation of falling in love. They’re all solid songs on their terms with the latter being especially beautiful as the outro of the album thanks to its swelling post-rock crescendo.

However, the main focus lies in the very first track of the three. ‘Lover’s Spit’ has all the juxtaposition between the romanticised (no pun intended) and typically emotive lover and the physical, often fetishized saliva spit. The instrumentation, instead of being a piano or power ballad, also dives straight into complicating the conventions of a love song. Sure, you can tell that there are pianos playing, but it blends with the whistling electronic synths and bellowing horns. There’s not much sense of melody, the mixing leaves little room for nuance around the song’s genre outside of indie rock, not even the singing included in the awe-inspiring high notes for melodramatic points. 

Of course, love songs seldom makes its theme known through its instrumentals but rather relies on its lyricisms. So how does ‘Lover’s Spit’ fare in its topic? You’d think that the title draws the premise in on a no strings attached relationship that winds in on the emotional intimacy too much. Instead, the title is more or less a euphemism that relates to the sexual interactions that ensue between individuals. The intimate, if unusual, backing music stands in contrast with the short-term gratification of intercourse which gives off the sense of decadence. However, there lies a certain connection that is felt even if the main intent is to get laid.

From the third-person perspective, there is an emotional distance that is felt in the verses. Vulgar phrases like one-off affairs through the “night they never met” or the classic “giving head” all point to the hook-up culture with little to no feelings. However, when you pair them with their respective metaphors like the act of tying or “swallowing words”, what should be simple acts of pleasurable fornication are instead used as a mask. It’s as if close physical intimacy is ironically used as a way to distract ourselves from how we actually feel, especially when it comes to someone that we may take a liking of. 

This is compounded by the chorus which changes the perspective to first-person. Now, the voice addresses someone who they might have spent the night with. Starting with “You know it’s time that we / Grow old and do some shit”, it lacks the flowery language, the passionate vocal performance, or the twee impression. Instead, it’s relatively profane, is more immediate, and straightforward. There’s no magic or even charm behind it without context.

Yet, that phrase, sung in a slightly hopeful tone by frontman Kevin Drew, might well be one of the most romantic I have heard. It doesn’t dally with grand declarations, it doesn’t flirt with the potential of the relationship lasting forever, it doesn’t even picture the future far ahead with having children or achieving lifelong dreams. Rather, it centres on the possibility of maturing and taking the one night stand as a beginning of a closer, more emotionally resonating bond. Its blunt honesty is what makes the phrase integral to the experience of listening to the song.

The brilliance kicks in with the following half of the chorus that is saying “I like it all that way” two times. It’s such a subversive way to deny us the realisation of emotional love in favour of relapsing back to sexual habits. The first utterance makes you think that it’s in reference to the fantasy from the first half. The second, on the other hand, is said in the same inflection which gives off an impression of being dazed off, suggesting a relapse back to old habits. Not even the desire of romance is enough to forgo casual sex; the status quo is enough as it is to satisfy the voice without any deeper thinking.

‘Lover’s Spit’ thus stands out as a gem when it comes to anti-love songs. Behind the grand backing music lies a conflict between frequent sexual acts for fun and settling down with someone you slept with. Rather than give in to the conventional desire of romance, the song implicitly turns towards continuing on with the philandering. Up there with Spiritualized’s ‘Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space’ as being the best in indie music, Broken Social Scene should be proud that they made a song that sums up the complexity of love as this.


Subscribe to my newsletter

Leave a comment