revisited : set yourself on fire.

obviously stars rules. when your band is made up of revolving members of the broken social scene collective and amy millan's your main girl, it's pretty difficult to fail. (although in our bedroom after the war is obviously the exception woopsy to the rule). the five ghosts will most definitely be making a significant appearance on my top ten albums of 2010 as well as their june performance at lincoln hall for top shows. but today on the bus after a pretty exhausting week (thus far), 'one more night (your ex-lover is dead)' played on my ipod.

i'm pretty sure the guy next to me on the bus saw my face crumple and fall into defeat. he kept looking at me as i morosely peered out the bus side window. well, dude, it's a pretty emotional song. 'specially if you've recently come to terms with a dissolving relationship. or even, if not. i've got years of memories associated with this song. i remember the first time i heard it, not even in a relationship. still listening to the lyrics, before my first love, thinking, man. i've never really cared for anyone this much, but i can absolutely decipher how much the situation sung about in this track would sting. and you know what, it does.

you don't necessarily need to be in the situation of bedding your former lover, accepting terms of its dissolution, but even thinking of a former flame and imagining the tearful emotional realization of unhealthy closure and facing fears of what could come post-honeymoon. i have a pretty amicable relationship with my ex suitors and was able to make clean breaks for the most part. but thinking of, what if it wasn't that easy? gets me a little misty. i can't imagine how much more rough it would have been had my situation with my 4-year beau been relatable to when torquil campbell sings the second verse: 'when she's breaking his heart, she still fucks like a tease. released to the sky, look him straight in the eye and tell him right now that you wish he would die. you'll never touch him again, so get what you can. bleeding him empty just because he's a man. so good when it ends, you'll never be friends. one more night, that's all they can spend.'

these are honest and raw lyrics. i truly wish i couldn't relate to what this song is saying. let's just say ouch. . .   long story short, it's a sad fucking sappy song. amy and torquil's soft sigh like melodies compliment one another superbly, and the layers of crying strings, bursting percussion and steady bass throughout are enough alone to make me misty eyed. it achieves its mission in being a perfect song. opening track 'your ex-lover is dead' is another example of an unavoidable break-up confrontation, also complete with complex instrumentation showcased with heavy stringwork, lazy harmonica and xylophone. sappy it's over lyrics comence as a former pair are introduced by a mutual friend, complete with resentful stings such as 'and all of the time you thought i was sad, i was trying to remember your name.' again, ouch.

but really, as fantastic as it is to feel sad and like shit, what makes this album absolutely timeless and a masterpiece is not the ability to waste a complete box of kleenex and a pint of ben and jerry's, but its seamless transition into absolute reverse, upbeat, delicate and joyous even, pop songs. 'ageless beauty,' i mean, man. what a fantastic song. amy millan's got such a precious, delicate and lovely voice. she is the definition of femininity, with her soft childlike speak singlike tone and soft cooing hooks. even torquil's cheesey and jittery, synth driven 'what i'm trying to say' is irrisistable when it comes to foot tapping and underpants bedroom dance parties. 'he lied about death,' another torquil synth jam, is a little heavier with more electro bass infusion, sped up chaotic drum machines and his (i cant take them seriously) threatening lyrics, 'what gives you the right, to fuck with our lives?' and the hating on bush cuz its totally 2004 and that's the hip thing to do tongue in cheek stab, 'i hope your drunken daughters are gay. you are the shadow of fear. you scare the love out of here. like an ape in a cage.'

filler tracks like 'reunion,' 'sleep tonight,' 'the first five times' and 'the big fight' are hardly filler. they're just not as magical as the other numbers. throw them on any other stars album and they're the singles. but really, the ending chapter, 'calendar girl,' is the epitamy of what makes stars so fantastic. like a peaceful dream you never want to be rousted from, amy and torquil breathlessly sigh and sing their hearts content, reflecting on their eventual demise and their peace with this destiny. maybe i'm just a sucker for big strings and soft piano, but this song is the perfect modern lullaby. epic percussion. slow guitars. very magical pop music.

it's definitely worth checking out this album. regardless of whether or not you know of stars, have any of their records, or probably like me, have this and love it, it was a pleasure revisiting tonight. i sadly reflected on past loves, clenched my fists in jaded resentment towards former flings, smiled and sang along at the top of my lungs, reminisced fondly on where i was 6 years ago and felt shaken up, near tears, happy as an 8 year old with a fresh lollipop, girly as a 17 year old in love for the first time, and most importantly, at peace. not many bands or albums can evoke one, let alone all of those reactions. that's why you should all (re)visit set yourself on fire. it's truly a masterpiece.