Starbenders have been kicking around for a little over a decade now, hell-bent on their mission on reviving glam rock and hair metal in all their glory. Or what little glory they had anyway; such scenes should be the subject of a future Netflix true crime series than anything worth celebrating. But regardless, the North American glam rock n’ rollers are back with another record in the form of The Beast Goes On, a record that tries and fails to be a big as the band member’s haircuts.
A record that implores the importance of being unapologetically yourself, larger than life, and fearlessly original, here, Starbenders present such crucial messages through 30-odd minutes of regurgitated clichés and tired stereotypes. Sounding akin to the corpse of Kiss’ career being dragged from the grave and being forced to perform TikToks after being subjected to 10 layers of pre-production polish, the record presents recycled tropes from the glam-metal days en-mass in what can only be called a torrent of trite. The opening gambit of the record’s title track and quite frankly awful ‘Nothing Ever Changes’ establishes this from the offset, with these tracks stringing together all imaginable stereotypes associated with the band’s evident inspirations with all the grit of double cream and the punch of Mother Teresa.
Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with the kind of worship and revivalism that Starbenders peddle. Take Creeper for example; they’ve essentially become Meatloaf for Gen Z. But what’s missing here is that thin and subtle layer of irony and self-awareness that makes Creeper and their ilk enjoyable despite all their daftness. What Starbenders do here is take the grit and tropes of yesteryear’s stereotypes, polish them to an inch of their live, ensure it’s all PG friendly and offer them with no kind of self-awareness whatsoever. There’s no tact or careful finesse or anything remotely dangerous here, just a miasma of unoriginality that promotes the band’s aesthetic over any possible substance.
Granted, there are some actual good moments here. The irrefutably catchy chorus of ‘Chantilly Boy’ and it’s message on defying gender norms for one, the silly yet fun nature of the record’s central power ballad ‘Hello Goodbye’ second. But these moments are far and fleeting. With The Beast Goes On containing 13 tracks and the album showing all it’s musical cards in it’s first side, the latter half record ultimately turns into an amalgamated blur of everything already experienced. The petulant strop of a cover that is their rendition of Bad Religion’s ‘21st Century (Digital Boy)’ is a highlight though, with their version of the song being absurd, immature but undeniably kind of fun in a ‘so bad it’s good’ kind of way.
But perhaps the most infuriating thing about this record is just how regressive it is. Heavy music has long been a subject of valid mockery due to the negative stereotypes that have long bogged it down and it’s only been in recent years that many unfamiliar with the genre have begun to see it is a valid art-form. However, this album only reinforces such stereotypes. More or less every song contains some form of tired, outdated cliché that only supports the fact that rock music is essentially – let’s face it – quite cringe. When asked to clean its room or get a job, The Beast Goes On proclaims it can’t because it ‘sold it’s soul to rock n’ roll’, only to ask for a tenner or two to spend at the hallowed halls of the nearest Blue Banana. It’s the sound of adults promoting a child’s view of rebellion, a prime example of style over substance.
About as gritty and rebellious as the marble walls of a high street bank, this is a record that wishes to break convention and be larger than life but is far too afraid to do so due to the possible ramifications. Instead, it sits in the middle lane, preaching about breaking the boundaries and taking risks whilst offering the most safe music possible. Yes, there’s no denying that Starbenders are more than capable of writing a decent hook or two, but once you remove the pomp, glamour and polish, The Beast Goes On is a skeletal affair. This is less of a beast and more of creatively malnourished critter struggling to breathe from 10 layers of hair product and a distinct lack of originality.