Remix compilations are, essentially, retrospectives: culling the past work of a band that is self-admittedly past its heyday or has already broken up. However, the remix album, which has become increasingly popular among indie artists who haven’t yet amassed the reputation or repertoire of bands with retrospective remix releases, signifies something a bit different. Featuring all of the tracks from a previous album (usually the most recent) in order but mixed up, the remix album acts as a placeholder of sorts for a band uncertain about its future or simply facing a lull in new material. By releasing a remix of their 2004 (2005 in the U.S.) release Set Yourself on Fire, Stars initially appear to have fallen squarely into this category. In the worst-case scenario, remix album efforts come off as lazy and/or just plain lame (this was, I believe, the general consensus about most of The Faint’s Danse Macabre Remixes), but sometimes–as with Minus The Bear’s Interpretaciones del Oso (released earlier this year)–such projects can yield interesting results.

By giving their remix album the title Do You Trust Your Friends?, Montreal chamber pop band Stars bring another element of this quickly-growing genre back to the forefront: the importance of who is doing the remixes. It’s fitting that Stars–whose songs favor earnest quirkiness over irony and goofy feelings over detachment–would call attention to the inherent vulnerability of laying one’s work open for aural redesign; it’s also not surprising that Stars emphasize the personal relationships behind this project. The remixes, covers, and collaborations on Do You Trust Your Friends? are, quite literally, the work of Stars’ contemporaries and friends–bands or artists that have toured with Stars (Apostle of Hustle, The Dears), shared members with Stars (Kevin Drew and Stars bassist Evan Cranley co-founded Broken Social Scene, which eventually also included Stars vocalist/guitarist Amy Millan), or inherited members from Stars (Emily Haines, who was a guest vocalist on a few tracks for Stars’ first full-length album, Nightsongs, went on to front Metric). So, without further ado…

Friends Stars can really, really trust:

Jason Collett (covering “Reunion”). While the lyrics of this song are pure Torquil Campbell, right down to the details of huffing up the results of high school chem class experiments, Collett’s version, which brings in handclaps and countrified guitar, transposes the experience described in the song’s lyrics onto the more right-leaning, Skoal-slinging element of the population–a contingent that Stars hasn’t exactly embraced in the past. With Jason Collett at the helm, suddenly this song isn’t just about one wussy kid from in Vancouver or all of us dorks who identify with him: it could be about a line dancing, Wrangler-wearing dude from Anytown, USA (as a leftist geek with redneck roots, I adore this result).

The Dears (“What I’m Trying to Say, Pt. 2”). The Dears break “What I’m Trying to Say” into two parts, separating, regrouping, and ultimately highlighting the contributions of the band’s two vocalists: Amy Millan and the aforementioned Torq Campbell. The strange chemistry between these two in concert–Torq running over during a song to grab Amy, who doesn’t look like she’s invited him over but sort of puts up with it–is part of what makes Stars so fun and weird. “What I’m trying to Say, Pt. 2” pulls Amy’s vocals to the forefront and pushes Torq to the back, inverting and questioning not just the structure of the song but the band’s stage act itself.

Metric (“He Lied About Death”). Though I’m no George W. Bush fan myself, “He Lied About Death” is my least favorite track on Set Yourself on Fire. It’s a bit awkward and heavy-handed compared to the more specific personal narratives at which Stars usually excel, and, other than the fervent “I hope your drinking daughters are gay” (I mean, who doesn’t? Barb’s totally hot) the forced whisper of Torq’s vocals on this track falls somewhat flat for me. Metric‘s version, however, lifts them right back up. In an arrangement that shows off Emily Haines’ Broken Social Scene roots, they manage, with a beautiful, tumbling piano intro and various other add-ins, to invert the original into something more far-reaching and epic. The original version could be construed as muted screed, but the remix comes off as a polyphonic plea for justice.

Junior Boys (“Sleep Tonight”). Their remix of “Sleep Tonight” isn’t the best remix on the album–it doesn’t have the adorable sounds-like-a-broken-record intro or jingle bells of the original version–but, like the original, it is endearing. Junior Boys take away the distortions, smooth out the horn section until it’s as sweet as Amy Millan’s crooning, and drizzle the results with a framework cheesy ’80s synth. The formula is simple, but it works well.

Friends who stab Stars in the back:

The Russian Futurists (“The First Five Times” ). Sometimes, ’80s revival is a good thing, but in this case, Torq Campbell needs to lay down the peace pipe already and get SDI on the folks who did this remix. On Set Yourself on Fire, Stars made a solid three-minute story about a goofy hookup that turns into love even more endearing by setting it to sweet, synth-driven, foot-tapping goodness that worked famously on the album and practically exploded live. If you’ve seen Stars perform, you know that Torq Campbell likes to scream out one-sentence intros to songs (e.g., “This song’s about vampires!” or “This song’s about fucking!”); the last time Stars played in Boston was no exception. Torq screamed, “This song’s about having sex on Fresh Pond Parkway!” (a total hat-tip to the locals–my friends and I were impressed) before the band ripped into a stunning, grin-inducing version of “The First Five Times.” If there’s any way to improve on that performance, it’s certainly not this remix, which slows “The First Five Times” down to the most generic of beats, adds a lot of unncessary layers, and strips the song of all feeling in the process. Torq’s vocals become monotonous and shady, while Amy Millan’s oh, oh’s become forefronted. The result isn’t Futurist–it’s bad Soviet porn.

Friends that Stars should keep around for housesitting purposes:

Though not always preferable to the original, the rest of the album is a decent tribute. Apostle of Hustle, who opened for Stars on their 2005 U.S. tour, do a cover of “One More Night” that’s a bit busy but interesting. Broken Social Scene’s Kevin Drew (I can almost picture him singing, “I’m still your fag, Stars,” sort of the way he sang “I’m still your fag, Providence” when he played Lupo’s last November), teams up with Camouflage Nights to do a version of “Celebration Guns” that’s half-collaboration, half-remix. And the Most Serene Republic do a remix of “Ageless Beauty” that reminds me a lot of Mint Royale’s cover of “Elephant Stone” on The Stone Roses: The Remixes for the way in which it extracts the sweetness of the song’s vocals from the urgency of their instrumental backdrop: it’s pretty, to be sure, but not a version that’s ultimately more memorable. So, to answer the question raised by the title of Stars’ remix album, yes, you can trust your friends (except the Russian Futurists), but you can’t always expect them to do the job that you’d have done. Thankfully, Stars are taking back the reins and will be releasing their fourth album this autumn.

Release date: May 22, 2007

Label: Arts & Crafts

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