â?? by Jennifer Vineyard, with additional reporting by Matt Paco
It might be cliché to say that to really get a band â?? any band, really â?? you have to see them live. In the case of New York's Stellastarr*, their rabid fans would testify with hands on holy books of their choosing that yes, if that is the true test of a band, this Brit-pop-flavored act not only passes but sets the curve.
The founding members of Stellastarr* met at New York's Pratt Institute of Art and had unlikely backgrounds to position them as New York's most buzzing band, though they tasted the edge of fame with their various exploits. Drummer Arthur Kremer was an actor who once shared the screen with Rick Schroeder in "The Lost Battalion" on A&E. Singer Shawn Christensen painted portraits of rock stars such as the White Stripes, the Strokes and David Bowie and sold them through his Web site,
www.shawnyboy.com. It wasn't until they roped in classically trained cellist Amanda Tannen that the band became more than just another extracurricular activity.
"We basically met through the performing arts program, which was pretty small," Christensen said. "It was only like ten people who cared about acting and anything at Pratt. We needed a bassist, and we knew Amanda had a bass guitar, and we weren't really sure if she knew how to play it or not, but that didn't matter."
"They kind of bombarded me," she said, laughing.
"She didn't really have much choice in the matter," Christensen added.
At that point, the band â?? and its songs â?? got serious. Dark and yet still full of hope, their first release, the Somewhere Across Forever EP, was a time-machine excursion of '80s new wave guitar, balancing the intensity of Joy Division, the pop of the Pixies, the drama of the Cure and the quirk of the Talking Heads while still seeming fresh. The tunes on their self-titled debut on RCA, due out September 23, are just as retro-goes-modern with just as much of a sense of urgency, as if they had to instruct a new generation about the history of rock â?? a worthy substitute to Jack Black's teacher character in "School of Rock."
Upon hearing songs about paranoia, love and longing like "In the Walls," "My Coco," "Jenny" and "No Weather," friends quickly morphed into fans who would pass out stickers, sell merch and even get their songs on the radio in the U.K. But the best friend Stellastarr* ever found was television producer Jason Dolan, who videotaped all of their shows and let the tape instruct the band in one more art: stage presence.
"That was a real eye-opener, watching the tape," Kremer said.
"We'd sit there and want to cringe," guitarist Michael Jurin said. "We'd be like, 'oh my God, we're so stiff, we don't move!' Or, 'That's a ridiculous thing we do right there.'"
Quickly, the band learned to make the most of the stage. Kremer, for one, started performing shirtless, with a black masking-tape star over one nipple. And over time, Stellastarr* got to the point where the lessons didn't matter, because their ever-growing, rabid fanbase was happy enough to take over the duties for them.
"We did this show, and Shawn was losing his voice," Jurin recalled. "So we asked the audience to sing the song with him, and the song wasn't released or anything, and these people knew the words! They just saw enough shows that they could sing the song back at him, without ever owning the song."
"I don't need to be here anymore," Christensen joked. "I'll just go home."
MTV.com/Everything Indie
