Starbenders - The Beast Goes On

The Riff Collective
Feb 28
2 min read

Updated: Mar 10

There’s always been something thrillingly unclassifiable about Starbenders — a band that treats genre like stage makeup: something to smear, distort, and weaponise. On their fourth record, The Beast Goes On (Sumerian Records), they finally sound like they’ve fully embraced that philosophy, delivering a 13-track statement that’s bold, theatrical, emotionally bruised and — crucially — packed with hooks sharp enough to draw blood.

Opening with the title track, the band immediately plant their flag in glam-goth territory. Swelling guitars and dramatic phrasing set a cinematic tone, while Kimi Shelter commands the spotlight with a performance that’s equal parts seduction and confrontation. It’s a mission statement: this isn’t background music — it’s a spectacle.

The album thrives on contrast. “Nothing Ever Changes” slams the accelerator with punk snarl and chugging basslines, arguably the heaviest moment here and a future live pit-starter. Then comes “Chantilly Boy,” deceptively buoyant yet lyrically bruised, turning self-acceptance into a glitter-coated anthem. These abrupt stylistic pivots could feel disjointed in lesser hands, but Starbenders make them feel like costume changes in the same decadent show.

One of the record’s emotional peaks arrives with “Cold Silver,” a haunting meditation on isolation and mental strain that lingers long after the final note. The band’s secret weapon is their instinct for melody: nearly every chorus here is engineered for instant recall, from the adrenaline rush of “Forever Mine” to the claustrophobic slow-burn drama of “hello goodbye.”

Elsewhere, “Tokyo” leans fully into retro-futurist glam, drenched in synth sheen and stadium-ready swagger, while “Somebody Else” and “To Be Alright” explore darker emotional terrain with spectral keys and aching vocal lines. By the time closer “21st Century Digital Boy” explodes into its pulse-racing finale, the album feels less like a collection of songs and more like a theatrical arc — a decadent, neon-lit descent into longing, obsession, and identity.

If there’s a flaw, it’s that the record occasionally indulges its aesthetic a little too much; trimming a track or two might have sharpened the pacing. But even at its most excessive, The Beast Goes On never loses its grip. It’s decadent, dramatic, and defiantly weird — exactly what modern rock needs more of.

The Riff Doctor Diagnosis: RRRR½

Highly infectious. Certified riff pathogen (mutating strain detected).

Final word: The Beast Goes On isn’t just Starbenders’ best album — it’s the moment they finally become the larger-than-life rock stars they’ve always looked like.