Review Summary: Starset: Sci-fi rock opera here! Starset: Much less than what meets the ear!
I hear there is another Michael Bay
Transformers movie, subtitled
The Last Knight, to be released this summer. Columbus, Ohio-based space rock enthusiasts Starset must have heard about it too because the quartet’s latest LP
Vessels sounds, at least, like an over-the-top attempt to be featured on the film’s butt rock soundtrack. At most, it’s as if Bay commissioned the group to compose an accompanying dramatic score worthy of Hollywood’s notoriously bombastic director.
To that would-be end, Starset largely succeed. They capture Bay’s stylistic lack of subtlety, overabundance of huge computer-driven special effects, and his bloated, incoherent -- both in regard to action and plot -- narrative and transmute it horribly right to music. Frontman and lead vocalist Dustin Bates and Bay are truly artistic kindred spirits. The duo’s back catalogue is full of flashy science fiction epics that are devoid of substance, produced by a big budget and full of contrived and banal dialogue or lyrics. And no matter how much we enjoyed Bay’s original
Transformers (2007) and Starset’s 2014 debut,
Transmissions -- like how much we ogled Megan Fox’s glistening midriff and lovely bosom dangling over a steamy radiator and or head-banged to “My Demons” -- this time it’s hard to be content with superficial sensual and sensory overload. The novelty has worn thin. Bay’s
Transformers sequel
Revenge of the Fallen sucked and pretty much everything else that followed. Accordingly,
Vessels as an experience is epitomized in a classic scene in which Fox, who has both the looks and acting chops of a porn star, pouts to Shia LaBeouf, “
I’m not going to go without you!” The committed couple proceed to run together in slow motion, holding hands, while Fox's boobs bounce and the world around them goes to explosive hell,
literally and figuratively, thanks to Bay’s keen pyromaniac and voyeuristic direction.
The fault, of course, in both cases, lies with the people making the creative decisions behind the scenes. Bay, the suits at Paramount and Dreamworks and the film’s producers chose to up the ante, get bigger and louder, as it were, and throw a bunch of money for parlor tricks in making
Revenge of the Fallen instead of focusing on storytelling basics such as character development and a screenplay that makes sense. So too do Bates and producer Rob Graves, better known for his touch with Christian nu-metal outfit Red, double down on Starset’s idiosyncrasies and forego shoring up the fundamentals and flaws in the band’s brand of alternative rock. Bates and company aspire to take listeners to the outer limits of the galaxy, heavily relying on synths, strings, inaudible recordings and science-themed lyrics to craft their astral rock. This time, however – and forgive me – they go down the wormhole and never exit out the other side.
For starters, Bates intones too much along the lines of “
Satellite…shine your light,” on “Satellite,” or about “
Something blocking your reception / It's distorting our connection…You've tuned me out / I've lost your frequency” on – you guessed it – “Frequency.” My favorite example comes from “Ricochet”: “
You'd hang on every word I'd say / But now they only ricochet…But when I send my heart your way / It bounces off the walls you made / Ricochet.” It’s the perfect song with enough melodrama for an embattled Marky Mark and Josh Duhamel to stare off in the distance in anguish while Optimus Prime clashes in an incomprehensible metal-on-metal brawl with harebrained Decepticons. Anyway, the clumsy physics metaphors about yearning for unrequited love get stale quickly. They only work great if you want to take a hit of Jack every time you hear a reference to “starlight,” “gravity” or crashing to earth.
That is if you can make them out at all in the din. Bates is far from the best suited vocalist to carry a tune through the sonic chaos Starset create. He lacks the charisma and strength of a Michael Barnes, Benjamin Burnley, Jared Leto, Chino Moreno or other peers and inspirations to do so. To compensate for his relative weakness, his vocals are overly layered and auto-tuned throughout the 70-minute, 15-track run-time. They seemingly undergo more modulations than Bay’s iteration of Bumblebee, a killer robot who doubles as a Chevy Camaro and speaks as if someone’s flipping channels on radio or TV. After all, like Bay, Starset don't subscribe to the theory that less is more.
While this strategy in production enhances tracks like “Starlight,” “Back to Earth” and the funky outlier of the album, “Telepathic,” it is not a cure when Bates really needs to be dynamic with clean and harsh vocals on the massive and promising melody of “Into the Unknown” or the screeching choruses in the horrendous “Gravity of You” and “Last to Fall.” His monochromatic delivery of mechanized growls and cries works at times for the futuristic, sterile soundscape of imagined AIs and faster-than-light travel. Conversely, it often falls flat for projecting emotion and angst in supposedly aggressive anthems like “Bringing It Down” and “Unbecoming,” condemning them and others as underwhelming nu-metal filler.
So while Starset intend to have their listeners escape the confines of gravity and marvel at the dangerous wonders of the universe in the vacuum of space, I can’t help but wish the band grounded itself on earth –
on actual rock. For
Vessels, guitar riffs and bass licks are vassals to artificial beats, synths and Bates’ augmented voice when it should precisely be the opposite. The atmospheric electronics and strings should exist to embellish the arena rock serrated by powerful vocal inflections. Instead, many tracks sound written for the express purpose of being remixed for the clubs and discotheques.
Despite this overproduction, like in
Revenge of the Fallen, there are on occasion some diverting moments – John Turturro’s off-color remark about being “directly below enemy scrotum” stirred a chuckle in me.
Vessels has the ominous instrumentals of “The Order” and the pretty denouement in “Richochet.” Closer “Everglow” actually is awesome and strikes the difficult stylistic balance for which Starset had been aiming; it starts dissonant and bright before roaring into a glorious maelstrom of Deftones-influenced cosmic fury. Even so, to reach this summit, it’s hard to slog through what sounds like Owl City’s tribute to nu-metal that's also punctuated by too many forced and needless symphonic epilogues added for
extra gravitas.
Skip
Vessels for the same type of reasons you should pass on Bay’s latest flick.
Recommended(ish) tracks:
"Starlight"
"Back to Earth"
"Telepathic"
"Everglow"
