Starcrazy  cites Cheap Trick, Porno For Pyros and Van Halen as reference points. No surprises there if you’ve seen them. Digital radio host Alice Cooper (yes, that Alice Cooper) called them “retro glam with a hint of Rush”. Now, that’s a label that could be regarded as code for boring, but that surely wasn’t The Coop’s intention. To be thought of for a nanosecond by him is something you’d tell your grandkids - assuming A.I. will have educated them in who he is.   

Starcrazy still covers a lot of stylistic ground on their debut album, including funk, pop and hard rock, but the record makes perfect sense, sounding cohesive and focused. Part of the reason is that they’ve spent a good part of their existence in vans, trekking up and down the Australian East Coast playing to anyone who still gives a rat’s arse about rock and roll.

With an engine room of bassist Jack “JB” Barratt and drummer Jack Farmer that rumbles with a major command of dynamics, they’re at a distinct advantage. Throw in a bagful of hook-laden songs, big guitar sounds and the tuneful and emotive vocals of Marcus Fraser, and there’s not much missing.

The good news is that their stage presence and energy translate to recording. The production by Mo Maihem (Mucho Sonar, ex-Hell City Glamours) is top shelf. It’s polished without being overly so – it has a satin sheen as opposed to a shiny gloss - and the transparency of the mix allows every instrument to shine through. Props too to engineer Andrew Beck.

The band hasn’t scrimped on mastering and Grammy Awards winner Alan Douches (Sufjan Stevens, Animal Collective, Converge, LCD Soundsystem, Fleetwood Mac, The Dillinger Escape Plan, Ben Folds Five, Cannibal Corpse, Fallout Boy, and The Misfits) did the business in New York State.

But it’s the songs that are the Main Attraction. “The Fire” is the scene-setting opener, a Cooperesque statement of intent (“Welcome to the show”) punctuated by JB Barratt’s  driving bass lines and some fiery guitar from Odin Wolf. “Good music gets you where you want to go”.

Two catchy singles, the folk-tinged ballad “Caught In a Dream (Again)” and the filthily funkified “I Ain’t That Crazy”, are the record’s centre-pieces and worth the price of admission in their own right. The chunky "Nighttime" enjoys the same earworm status. 

Lyric obsessives will find there’s depth to the tunes, with their observations of love, obsession, addiction, escapism and the liberating power of good music.

The cleverly-arranged “What It’s Worth” is a sleeper and “Fanzine” a pop gem. The mid-tempo swell of “Ballad of Philip J. Fry” - which manages to reference The Coop and “Futurama” while incorporating the briefest of whistling solos – should be enough to make most heritage bands give the game away.

The album holds up to – demands – repeated listens. It might have taken its time, but “Starcrazy” was worth the wait and makes you wonder what’s next.

Vinyl fetishists will miss out on the CD-only bonuses of the single edit of “Caught In A Dreram (Again)” and “S.O.S.” (yes, that song.)  No parody involved on the latter, only a little showboating to show off the players’ chops and underline Starcrazy’s aversion to pigeonholing. 

In a different time and place - and in spite of their lack of gimmickry or affectation -  Starcrazy wouldn’t be slumming it on King Street, but blowing the competition away on the Sunset Strip, with a conga line of runny-nosed A&R toadies courting them for five-album deals and 50-date stadium tours. 

Starcrazy don’t re-invent any wheels but provide hope that rock and roll's flame will keep burning.

four1/2

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