The Goldstars, Purple Girlfriend

The Goldstars are a garage-rock group from Chicago that plays music that’s pretty much straight out of the ’60s — there’s little here that would be out of place on Nuggets. The band’s a supergroup (a Chicago one, anyway), to boot, that includes Skipper and Goodtime from the New Duncan Imperials on organ and drums, Sal from The Krinkles on bass, and Dag Juhlin from The Slugs on guitar, and they’re very tight in that slightly sloppy way that’s perfect for garage rock. On Purple Girlfriend, they enjoy themselves immensely, and they don’t seem lose any of their energy in the studio (which is always good).

The album starts off with “DMV,” a goofy song where the narrator compares his girlfriend’s icy stare to waiting in line at the DMV. Sal, who sings this one, sings the chorus with gusto: “You looked at me like the DMV!” It’s sometimes hard to tell exactly what he’s singing, but even without enunciating, you get the gist of what he’s saying. The Goldstars play the song terse and short and with lots of energy (actually, everything on the record has lots of energy). Goodtime’s drumming, with his nervous-sounding drum fills, adds the right sort of tension.

“Fire” is another catchy song, this one sung by Juhlin, and its anti-conformist theme makes it very ’60s-ish — “You’ve got a fire, baby, and I ain’t gonna put you out!” goes the chorus. The main guitar riff is just different enough to give the song a more contemporary feel but not so much that it’s out of place. A nice, short guitar solo in the middle brings the song around at just the right moment. If there’s one thing these guys know, it’s how not to overplay.

Also in true ’60s fashion, they think of their album in vinyl terms. They put instrumentals at what would have been the end of each side of an LP. “Purple Girlfriend” wraps up the first side, and it’s a song worthy of being the title track, a showcase for guitarist Juhlin — three pretty and rifftastic minutes of fun. The album ends with a cover of “Comin’ Home Baby,” (fortunately) transformed from its Mel Tormé version into a soul instrumental featuring Skipper on organ.

The Goldstars should be pleased with themselves on Purple Girlfriend. If it weren’t as good, they’d have an excuse, since you don’t normally expect that much from supergroups — they rarely have time to develop a real personality. But the Goldstars don’t let themselves get away with anything, and the album shines for it. They could all turn this into their main project — they’re better than a lot of the full-time bands out there.