It was roughly a decade ago that the Ann Arbor, MI-based Starling Electric began bringing joy to power pop lovers far and wide through an unusually assured and full-bodied first album. After a long delay its follow-up expands the confidence of its predecessor and offers increasingly skilled songs blending a variety of classic pop-rock styles; a deft full-band dynamic clinches the deal. Opting for the self-released route, Electric Company is out now.
Starling Electric began as the solo enterprise of songwriter Caleb Dillon and gradually morphed into a five-piece affair. After various changes in personnel the lineup solidified; Dillon delivered lead vocals with Ben Collins on guitar, Aaron Diehl on guitar and keyboards, John Fossum on drums, and Christian Blackmore Anderson on bass.
Originally self-released in ’06, their debut was picked up for distribution by Bar/None a couple of years later; Clouded Staircase revealed lingering aspects of solo-project throughout 18 tracks that exuded similarities to the work of Robert Pollard, in no small part due to Dillon’s voice, combined with a mingling of psych and folk-tinged power pop a la Big Star, hints of art-rock in the mode of Yes, and pop-prog gestures reminiscent of ELO.
The results won them some high-profile fans including Posies Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow and even Pollard himself, who secured Starling Electric as openers for dates on his ’06 tour of the US East Coast. Reportedly recorded in numerous on-the-fly locations, Clouded Staircase importantly didn’t reverberate as ramshackle or lo-fi, instead cohering into a vivid statement on the enduring merit of pop-rock ambitiousness.
Appropriately, Electric Company opens with a needle drop from an old school Hi-Fi-style automatic turntable, the sound effect leading into a blend of wailing and chiming guitars, strains of late ’70s-early ’80s radio-ready electric piano and non-hackneyed loud-soft dynamics as “No Clear Winner” spills forth with uninhibited Big Rock motion sure to go down a storm in a small, tightly packed club.
It quickly establishes Starling Electric’s energy level alongside Dillon’s ability and temperament as a singer, and immediately afterward “Expression One” highlights his range of interest as a tunesmith, with cello and harpsichord deepening a nifty chamber-pop miniature. But it’s really the fantastic put-the-top-down-and-drive power pop riffing of “Permanent Vacation” that gets to the core of the band’s charms.
While still detectable, the resemblance to Guided by Voices’ long-serving leader is somewhat reduced across the album, though “Arrowsmith” does kinda sound like a meeting of Pollard, Move-era Jeff Lynne, and Todd Rundgren-circa Runt; amongst its allure is a sly Beatles cop, lyrics worth reading, and more of that harpsichord.
It’s a recipe explored to greater effect on “Young Man of the Mountain,” the song’s ‘70s AOR feel capped by a few superb vocal flights nodding toward a soft-rock zone but with a beneficial current of tenseness and not an iota of irony. Between them is “Mild Thing,” (heh) its straight-up melodic rock enveloped in amp buzz.
Dillon and company continue to share Pollard’s tendency for the concise. Similar to Clouded Staircase, this is 16 tunes in 40 minutes; traditionalists may find the brevity frustrating. However, “Who Is in my Temple” stretches out, the crisp power pop/ singer-songwriter hybrid getting permeated with guitar in its second half, at first pop-prog-like and then slowly more raucous as it’s overtaken by clean strumming at the fadeout.
To these ears the brevity is a welcome attribute, and a particularly fine example is the contemplative acoustic environment of “Jesus Loves the Byrds,” the track also underscoring Dillon and crew as deliberate students of pop-rock’s historical sonic architecture. Some observers will jerk the knee and paint Starling Electric with a retro brush, but that would be a mistake as “Bad Blood” swaggers a bit like Spoon, its thrust combining well with “No Clear Winner.”
“Zodiac” adroitly extends the template of the pop-rock auteur with crack studio backing but doesn’t blatantly copy any of the previous models, and “Jailbird Joey” persists in strengthening a contempo migration by intertwining strum-jangle, hearty bass, and a little vocal soulfulness. Those perfectly happy with the group’s angle should cherish the minute-long “Miss K,” which connects like GBV in their Matador period attempting to resurrect late ’60s Brit rainy day psych-pop.
In terms of power pop classique, nothing on Electric Company does the job quite like “(Save Me from This) Amy,” as a roughly Big Star-ish foundation is injected with Beach Boys’ harmonies and a sweetly grandiose finale. “Turn Off the Century” momentarily sets the guitars aside for piano, harpsichord, and percussion as Dillon sings a song at least partially inspired by Little House on the Prairie.
The final two numbers accentuate potentially wide appeal. “You Can’t Trust Rock & Roll” is lean pop-rock that could easily win over converts to Costello, Jackson, and Squeeze along with Rundgren and even Steely freaking Dan. And akin to the intermittent presence of harpsichord, the infusion of mellotron and trumpet in the urbane groove of “Start Again” can resonate like carryon luggage from an extended flower-power pop sabbatical, but it’s worth stressing that everything is well-ordered in the overall scheme.
Much of the band’s attractiveness comes from their comfortable straddling of sensibilities as Electric Company goes all-in for an AOR finish. In doing so Starling Electric succeeds in avoiding the pitfall of power pop orthodoxy. This sits very nicely next to Those Pretty Wrongs in 2016’s tried-and-true song-craft category.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
