On paper the STARS’ blend of pink-cheeked youthfulness and booze-addled wistfulness sounds risible–it’s hard to take indie-pop musicians seriously when they feel compelled to point out that they drink and do drugs “quite a lot.” But you might change your mind if you give a listen to the third album by this Montreal-based band, Set Yourself on Fire, released last spring in the States by Arts & Crafts (and yes, three members have played in Broken Social Scene, just like practically everybody else in Canada). Their carefully plotted songs of love gone wrong, rich with strings, synth, fuzz guitar, breathy girl-boy vocals, and the odd French horn part, make them sound a bit like David Gedge’s Cinerama. (They may not appreciate yet another comparison to yet another pop hero–on their Web site, under “ten things you may not know about Stars,” they’ve put “stars think the Magnetic Fields SUCK” in the second slot, though they’ve got plenty in common with that band too. Sorry, but I hear what I hear.) Sometimes lyrics like “We are collapsed in the act of just being here” come across too much like LiveJournal poetry, especially when you can’t tell whether the band’s trying to sound like Brits affecting a Yankee accent or Yanks aping Brits. But tug out your jaded-old-fart earplugs for a sec and the Stars’ gentle, hungover melodrama can make you feel 17 and shitty again. Every time I hear “Reunion,” which drapes a perfectly limpid chorus melody over the lyrics “All I want is one more chance / To be young and wild and free / All I want is one more chance to show you / You were right for me,” I want to run out, collar a prudish-looking high school kid, and scream at her, “Gather ye rosebuds, stupid!” –Ann Sterzinger
