The road to musical hell is paved with the bones of second-rate imitation bands. While combining disparate elements lifted from those that have gone before you is the primary way in which the musical vocabulary evolves, there are always those who are content to rest on someone else's laurels, and churn out once-removed versions of more visionary material. In many cases, no harm is done. These artists simply feel strongly about their influences and want to recreate them.

The problem comes when the artist at hand has neither the talent nor the drive to pull the show off convincingly. Herein lies the problem with Starlet, a Swedish quartet that seems to be under the illusion that they can be both Belle and Sebastian and the Smiths simultaneously, while lacking the effortlessly graceful songwriting of the former and the entrancingly self-absorbed and confident mood of the latter. Comparisons to the Cardigans are also unavoidable, but let's stick to what we're already working with.

Frontman Jonas Farm's vocals are pleasant but unengaging, lacking the breathless, lilting qualities of Belle and Sebastian's Stuart Murdoch. It doesn't help that the Swede attempts a British accent. Part of the problem with this whole arrangement is the language barrier involved. Those who lived through Ace of Base's chart reign understand the havoc that can be wrought by a Scandinavian band writing English lyrics. But while Starlet's lyrics are thankfully several cuts above that, they still come off bland and stereotypical.

Part of what save Belle and Sebastian from becoming too saccharine are Murdoch's witty and intelligent narratives. Starlet merely delivers 10 familiar sounding laments about lost loves ("Scent of You", "Moving On"), exercises in nostalgia ("Friends," "I'm Home"), and several other equally generic topics. It's not the topics I take issue with, though-- it's the vague, gutless lyrics themselves which are anonymous when they should be personal, and lifeless when they should be moving.

Musically, the precedents mentioned above are immediately obvious, and are consistently so throughout. "At Least in My Heart" recalls a much more pedestrian take on the Smiths' "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now," and "Diary and Herself" reeks of a cut-rate reading of Belle and Sebastian's "Get Me Away from Here I'm Dying." In the stylistic vein being mined here, the music is adequate, but no more. The instrumentation and arrangements seem the result of limited ability and imagination rather than tasteful restraint.

Ordinarily, name-dropping influences like this is an exercise in futility, needlessly showcasing the reviewer's supposedly superior taste while denigrating the work of the artist at hand. However, in a case such as this, where Starlet is obviously attempting to incorporate the work of their idols into an otherwise whitewashed musical vision, it seems necessary to point out that their plans have gone terribly awry. Starlet can pride themselves on having crafted a pleasant-sounding, compulsively safe record. But unfortunately, by failing to absorb the qualities that made their influences so singular and intriguing, they've come up with a record that's easy to dismiss and easier to forget.

-Dan Gardopee