I often wonder why more musicians don't publish their lyrics in the liner notes. Usually, the explanations I come up with include higher printing costs and a desire for artistic esotericism. In the case of Alpinestars, I believe the answer to lie in the fact that their lyrics are simply not great-- to the extent that they could, at times, pass for an awkward kind of sci-fi poetry. Witness: "You're a carbon kid with a sinister diagram." Or Placebo's Brian Molko singing, "No time or space in the city" in a forced sneer attempt to drive home the fact that this band is making MUSIC that THINKS about the FUTURE!!!!
Alpinestars play modern, trance-y synth-pop with zero edge and melodies with zero hook, which everyone knows are the two key elements synth-pop bands revolve around in the first place. The couple tracks that are sort of decent-- like "Snow Patrol (Part 1)", which combines screaming synths with a techno beat, or "NuSEX City", whose dorky, NOVA-oh-shit!-check-this-trippy-keyb-line self-wonderment is countered by a fairly tite disco jam-- are sullied with the kinds of vocal effects placed over the nasal yawl of Britney Spears and all her teen pop progenies. Even the "Bobby Peru's Electrostar Edit" remix of "Carbon Kid", which adeptly plunges itself into snappy, almost experimental, hot electro tweaks, is sullied by the Hi-NRG style splicing of Molko's cheesy vocals over the only good synth melody on the record. Plus effects.
But okay, by "Brotherhood", which is track 7 out of 12 and shamefully rips its melody of unquestioning happiness from "Here Comes the Sun", you'll be longing for the tracks that sound swiped from U2's Zooropa. Elsewhere, inspiration seems desperately plucked from such dicey sources as The Soup Dragons and Give Out But Don't Give Up-era Primal Scream (as on "Hotel Parallel"), or are stolen outright from, say, New Order's "Temptation" (as on "Burning Up"). Now, normally I wouldn't be so careless about wanton name-dropping and comparison-making, but merely imagining the music that inspired Alpinestars is far more interesting than Alpinestars' actual record.
I don't know who listens to this antiseptic electro-pop, or how they can distinguish it from any of the other insipid dance-schlock that DJ Neiman Marcus spins while they compare Kate Spade bags at the upscale boutiques on Madison Avenue, but I know this: IT'S FUCKING HELL. If I want to listen to the Pet Shop Boys I'll put on Magnetic Fields.
