Stars' album features outstanding vocals

By Joey Vergara

Published Sept. 21, 2007

Some of the greatest things in life come in pairs, such as Reese's Peanut Butter Cups and "The Office"'s Jim and Dwight. The Stars' dual vocalists, Amy Millan and Torquil Campbell, can be added to that list.

Montreal's Stars take the same formula that made 2005's Set Yourself on Fire such an indie-pop success and use it to create something even better on In Our Bedroom After the War. Even within a backdrop of tragic love lyrics, the music is always inviting, the melodies transcendent and the instrumentation stamped with the mark of a group of widely talented friends coming together to create downright beautiful music.

As impressive as this mammoth of a pop record is, in some ways, it is not as instantly accessible as Set Yourself on Fire. Bare-bone tracks such as "Personal" and "Barricade" leave room for the lyrics to reach the listener that much more. In this case, "not as accessible" does not equate with "impenetrable and obscure."

Unfortunately, the weakest track of the album is the opener, "The Beginning After the End," which features another spoken word intro like Set Yourself on Fire. It certainly sets up the sound of In Our Bedroom After the War well with distortion-encrusted synths, but it is mostly a waste of time.

"The Night Starts Here" crescendos with, as expected, synths until the bass and drums drop in. It is a pretty straightforward song that doesn't really begin to shine until it's almost over. Campbell gets more desperate in his delivery, and the music matches his intensity.

The title track closes the album in true Broken Social Scene-alumni manner. Its marching beat lends to the war theme, and the string accompaniment and squealing guitar solos strike that great epic feel like Broken Social Scene's classic "It's All Gonna Break." Even in all the gloom of war, Stars find some hope.

In Our Bedroom After the War is still all over the map in many ways, but the band members' creative proficiency is more solidified on this effort. The rhythm section, which consists of bassist Evan Cranley and drummer Pat McGee, fills in all the gaps with jazz-influenced moments, like in "Bitches in Tokyo," or adds a boisterous layer to the mix, as in "Take Me to the Riot". Multiple instrumentalist Chris Seligman's arrangements then flesh out the songs with electronic tinges.

Once again, the best part of Stars is the dual vocals of Millan and Campbell. Neither has sounded anywhere near as good as they do in In Our Bedroom After the War. It is really impossible to explain just how great Millan's voice sounds on this record. She never comes off harsh like some of her peers, even during the album's loudest portions, and she has matured beyond her previous efforts. The soulful "My Favourite Book" serves as a great excuse for Millan to show off, lulling you in and making things seem OK.

On the other side of the spectrum, Campbell experiments more. "The Ghost of Genova Heights" progresses as expected until the singer, who has moonlighted as an actor on shows including "Law & Order" and "Sex and the City," channels a surprisingly well-placed Michael Jackson falsetto chorus.

When combined on tracks such as "Take Me to the Riot" and "Window Bird," though, Campbell and Millan make Stars the band that it is. The former track is hands down one of the best pop songs of the last decade as it plays off the seesaw rise and fall of semi-whispered and incredibly lush verses and victorious choruses.

If In Our Bedroom After the War is meant to be a tragic critique of modern life, then it is one hell of a party disguised under Millan and Campbell's haunting melodies and bathed in poppy digital soundscapes.