The Weekly Coos

It’s been a little over twenty years since we’ve heard new studio-recorded music from Dogstar, a band from Bret Domrose, Robert Mailhouse, and Keanu Reeves, the latter of which recently made a splash over summer with the fourth installment of the John Wick series. Dogstar isn’t as well known as Keanu or as others within the genre they inhabit, and they aren’t a band that will make you turn your head with their bewildering creativity; frankly, Dogstar doesn’t need to be that, and they excel for it. Dogstar is as tame and direct compared to the varying alternative rock bands around, yet it isn’t something that negatively impacts them because these days, quality is the pearl we seek. Dogstar has an internalized sonic identity that bridges alternative rock and grunge, trying to balance its more bro-ish tendencies with the genre and adding a sense of heart, which remains a potent entity guiding their work exponentially. The musical construction can be somewhat standard, but Dogstar doesn’t shy away from bringing unique tweaks that add definition, like the guitars on “A Dreamtime” off Happy Ending (2000), and it continues with Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees.

Dogstar delivers quality, and more importantly, it breathes and delivers the internalized layer that comes from a bunch of homies rocking out and growing their connectivity through rock. The kind of homies you’d catch locked in mental unison by the beach, and they’re wearing nothing but shorts, sleeveless shirts, and puka shell necklaces; that’s the vibe of Somewhere Between the Power Lines and Palm Trees, and it hits on all circles, even if it isn’t the most memorable. It’s an album that excels in delivering on its themes through simple storytelling techniques, which can overshadow some of the linear and uninteresting subjects. It switches between giving you a positive outlook to something more introspective and deep. Though I’ve referred to the visual style that the music reminds me of, it isn’t to stereotype a personality or who this music is for, as its shimmering Cali vibes are subtle and glide through the tenderness of the instrumentations. When you play the song “When You Turn Around” or “Dillon Street,” which speaks on this one element bringing a sense of wonder and jubilee, compared to the bleaker “How The Story Ends,” you sense that frivolity as opposed to more hardened cynicism.

From the writing to the instrumentations, there is a consistency heard, but thematically, it isn’t the most memorable or unique. Much of it relies on these introspective avenues that allow them to keep it simple and poignant in its directness towards a specific entity that has them furthering their character development. Listening to much of the music, the band speaks about some of their flaws and how this person has them reviewing perspective or mentality about what is being said in the song or about how the world can seem lonely, but one never is. There isn’t something to write home about, but if you’re looking for a clean background listen that offers something in the instrumentation/production, this could be up your alley. That isn’t to put a negative spin on the album, as the content doesn’t have the creativity the instrumentations have to envelop its own identity amongst the multitude within their sphere. It’s enough to get you by without diluting yourself into thinking that the music is anything lesser.

Much of the instrumentation, like the writing, is linear, yet they go above and beyond to add some sense of differentials between the productions. They can maneuver through some simple moments by allowing multiple layers to bring energy and synergy between them, and that’s what kept me returning. They balance tone and atmospheric overtures to keep you flowing between something more summery like “Sunrise” or “Dillon Street” to something more direct with the alternative range like on the song “Upside.” As I reflected on how these intangibles connect, there is more to it than its directness, so for those looking to unwind with something that doesn’t involve much musical processing, like an album from Caroline Polatchek, it’s there to keep you afloat. Despite all the directness within, it’s a fun flow of music that may find its way into those playlists where you keep your faves, and from just the sheer synergy their brotherhood exhumes, I bet one helluva of live performance this coming winter. If I lived in NYC, I would have bought tickets instantly, but until then, I’ll keep jamming this.