I've always liked to believe that everyone lives with at least one secret shame. Some past secret, perversion, like, or dislike that has been kept hidden, for fear of embarrassment and public stoning. But listening to the Starlight Mints, I feel I must now make my horrible, horrible secret known to the world:
This may come as a shock to those of you chewing violently upon your 18th stick of Wrigley's Spearmint today. But those that have taken mint for granted have no idea how difficult it is to go through life barely being able to stand the stuff. Until a few months ago, I was still using Sesame Street toothpaste. And don't even get me started on candy. Finally, though, I've found a mint I can tolerate. A firm, robust mint that's remarkably palatable, if, at times, a bit too saccharine.
The Dream That Stuff Was Made Of is a short, well-sequenced offering of punchy orchestral pop. And orchestral pop can be risky business, which is why "string section" is a favorite rock and roll punchline. But when The Dream That Stuff Was Made Of is at its best, it manages to reap all the benefits of the genre-- a full, expansive sound, and layers of contrasting melodic lines-- while avoiding the self-indulgence that so often foils their orch-pop contemporaries.
"Submarine #3" kicks off the record with a small quartet accentuated by an intensifying drum beat, summoning the spirit of Bacharach past. But aside from some distorted falsetto vocals that might be better suited for fellow Oklahoma natives the Flaming Lips, there isn't much to discuss. Frontman Allan Vest possesses a down-to-earth voice that seems perfectly suited to this kind of music: relatively expressive, and always on key.
"The Bandit" is a similarly structured song, relying upon big, open major chords and string accents to create a thoroughly charming pop sound. But the not-so-amusingly titled third track, "Sir Prize," breaks away from this formula slightly, by implementing fractured song structure and quirky slide guitar riffs. This element of quirk also makes its presence known on stronger tracks like the suspiciously Flaming Lips-esque "Valerie Flames," as well as chewed-up bubblegum numbers like the aptly titled "Sugar Blaster."
As a whole, The Dream That Stuff Was Made Of sounds great-- Enon and System of a Down producer Dave Sardy gives it a studio punch that may pale in comparison to the work of Dave Fridmann, but is nonetheless impressive. So, yeah, I'll happily listen to the Starlight Mints every once in a while, even if they haven't reached the point where I feel comfortable brushing with them.
