Too much of a good thing?

Broken Social Scene's fans have crossed their collective fingers so that the Canadian indie supergroup won't succumb to the sheer gravity of excess talent within its ranks. After all, since its 1999 inception, this has been more musical kibbutz than traditional rock band, with many in its ever-swelling numbers expected to participate only when -- and if -- they're available.

But Broken Social Scene as we currently know it may fall victim to its own success. While it wouldn't be entirely accurate to call the group's current trip around America a farewell tour, there are indications that the next time we see or hear from it, Broken Social Scene will be a fundamentally different band than the sprawling collective it is now.

"It's time to revamp the program," says Brendan Canning, who co-founded the band in Toronto along with Kevin Drew. From humble two-man beginnings, BSS expanded into a 17-member behemoth for last year's critically lauded, self-titled album. "It's hard to grow as a unit when the unit is not consistent. It can be exciting, but I think it's reached its limitation in that regard."

"This tour is, in essence, a chance to play places in America we haven't before, one last chance to give the show to the people, as it were."

Broken Social Scene has been at the center of a Canadian indie-rock explosion that includes the Constantines, Arcade Fire, the New Pornographers, the Sadies, Wolf Parade and a bevy of impressive BSS offshoots. You can find BSS members creating indie pop in Stars, Euro-tinged art-rock for Feist, the jazzy meter-shifts of Apostle of Hustle, the psychedelic instrumentals of Do Make Say Think, and the country- and folk-inflected solo projects of Amy Millan and Jason Collett.

But the fluid nature of BSS shapes its extraordinary sound; veteran indie rockers in a musical mixer with up-and-coming Toronto talent. A Juno Award winner (the Canadian equivalent of a Grammy) for Best Alternative Album, the band's last record was created in typical hit-and-run fashion, band members and collaborators contributing as touring and other commitments allowed.

As with BSS's three prior records, the music veers drunkenly between styles, somehow retaining a rich, textured coherence throughout. Put a BSS record in a single-disc player and it'll sound like an eclectic iPod set to random: Pavement-like indie rock one moment, driving Cure-flavored post-punk the next, Tortoise augmented by Stax horn-blasts, late-night falsetto soul a la Prince, or the Replacements run through Stereolab's chop shop.

But the same diversity that distinguishes its records and transcendent live shows has always included the possible seeds of the current incarnation's destruction. For many members, Broken Social Scene has functioned as a side project -- an increasingly difficult distinction as the band heaps up awards, sales and touring commitments. Canning says that while the collective will never turn its back on any member, "for it to make sense to everyone, there really needs to be some tightening of screws here and there.

"It's not like we're abandoning what we've done or don't feel proud of it," he adds, "but there are just so many variables that we can deal with on a day-to-day basis."

Touring has been especially difficult to coordinate, with members hopping on and off itineraries and stages with whiplash-inducing frequency -- there's more than one reason it's often said no two Broken Social Scenes are ever alike. This tour mostly features nine BSS members (depending on the date) with horn players from Do Make Say Think chipping in when logistics allow.

Canning concedes there's no telling what sort of band will emerge in the aftermath, but the tides of change have already begun. For starters, the Toronto studio where Broken Social Scene's last three records were made -- producer David Newfeld's Stars & Sons -- has closed. Newfeld has purchased property east of Toronto near the Sandbanks of Lake Ontario and hopes to build a new studio there. It's a far cry from Stars & Sons' cramped, windowless quarters or the crack addicts and hookers in its adjacent parking lot.

"It was a really great oasis for a little while," Canning says, "but it was just time to get out of that environment because it was destructive, especially for David, who lived there and would work over every sound on the records for days. There was no way that another record was going to be made in that little hovel."

Canning sees these changes as part of the natural progression for a band as amorphous as Broken Social Scene. With Drew writing songs for a non-BSS project, another Apostle of Hustle release set to drop, and the band's 3-year-old label, Arts & Crafts, picking up steam (and U.S. acts such as American Analog Set), change is practically another member in the Broken Social Scene universe.

"The world sort of works in seven-year cycles anyway," Canning says. "We've had four releases and done the soundtracks to a few films, and basically everything we've set out to do, we've accomplished. We're very proud of it all, and now we just need to take a slight turn here at the fork in the road."

music@creativeloafing.com