Starlight Mints
The Dream that Stuff was Made of
Seethru Broadcasting

Norman, Oklahoma.

Norman... Oklahoma. It just doesn't add up: The Starlight Mints come smack out of the buckle of the Bible Belt, but you'd never guess it from the tight, sophisticated tracks that pack the band's incredibly listenable debut album, The Dream that Stuff was Made of.

TSM has an eclectic style that lends itself to the worst kind of reference-dropping wankery; the group skillfully drags its musical ladle through a cauldron of pop inhabited by the likes of the Latin-spiced Pixies, the irresistably urgent Kinks, and the deadpan witty Magnetic Fields.

The band thrives upon a sometimes Bowie-like use of melody and electronics, propped up and enriched by the judicious use of cello, violin and guitar. And while the vocals on The Dream... tend to range between the twisted casual of Frank Black and the deadpan drama of Cake's John McCrea, they don't seem out of place in the sea of kooky melodic currents they float upon — they plunge into it, and leave behind wakes of aural joy.

Much of the band's power stems from its ability to be simultaneously bombastic and cheekily melodic — its rich, urgent notes propel a listener through a melting soundscape that lacks sharp edges, but has no lack of caves to explore. More importantly, it's impossible to listen to The Dream... without feeling as though the band is having fun with every aspect of the production. Tracks diverge and travel in twisting directions, but the Mints never abandon melody, or a sense of duty to what may the band's central attribute: creating a textured, listenable sound that effortlessly bobbles a listener through a polychromatic cavern of delicious pop.

Listening to The Dream... is an addiction, fueled by a diverse mix of songs that are united under the banner of melody, but never shackled to any single iron-fisted "sound." This is perhaps best illustrated by solid tracks like "Sugar Blaster" (a beat-driven march through a psychedelic garden of guitar effects) and "The Twilight Showdown," where tightly strapped Latin percussion slaps against echoing, reverby guitar riffs and a vocal style steeped in shades of The Violent Femmes.

Based on The Dream that Stuff was Made of, it's tempting to predict that a rich and prosperous career lies ahead for the Mints. This is only reinforced by watching them do their thing on stage. At a recent show at Boston's Middle East, the Mints were in full effect — the gathered indie hipsters were nodding their heads with fevered intensity at the Mints' inspired musical output, projected from a stage presence that was greatly enriched by a female guest vocalist with a rich, enveloping voice.

And while the live set lacked some of the album's subtlety (substituting a more horn-like, staccato use of an amplified cello for The Dream's more classical incarnation of the instrument), it connected brilliantly with the crowd and filled the smokey room.

With a strong live presence and the arsenal of tracks that fills The Dream that Stuff was Made of, the members of the Starlight Mints have launched a surreal musical journey with the potential to sail for many years to come.

— James Norton (jrnorton@flakmag.com)