Somewhere in the first minutes of Stellastarr*’s self-titled debut album, you realize that the recent resurgence of 1980s culture has not only filtered into fashion, but also into music.

Excelling in both upbeat rock songs and barer slow fare, Stellastarr* seems determined that this album will find a place in the whirlpool genre of indie rock.

You’d have to wander around with deaf ears not to notice that lead singer Shawn Christensen’s style eerily resembles The Cure’s Robert Smith.

Throughout the album Stellastarr* draws from influences ranging from The Cure to hip New York post-punk.

While harkening to trends of the 80s, Stellastarr* manages to keep its sound inherently modern.

Bass player Amanda Tannen provides a unique attribute to the album.

Her backup singing helps to ground Christensen’s always emotional, sometimes erratic vocals.

Stellastarr* succeeds when it experiments with traditional sound and formula.

In “Moongirl,” when the lyrics begin, they seem far away and blurry, as if Stellastarr* is trying to make an allusion to the sounds of space.

“Somewhere Across Forever” and “My Coco” are infused with catchy beats, daring you not to sing along (but not in a pop music way).

The band’s problem lies in its refusal to back down from musical bridges that completely change the tempo and feel of its songs.

“Homeland,” a scintillating guitar melody, is constantly interspersed with drum and bass-dominated breakdowns that cause the songs to waft in between lightness and strength, causing the final product to come out splintered.

“Untitled” diverts from the base that Stellastarr* builds throughout the album. Sporting elements of a country lament, it is the only song that deviates from the decidedly urban album, and this lends itself to an unexpected freshness.

In “Pulp Song,” the screeching, hyper end to the album, Stellastarr* sings “We’re lying, we’ve lied to you, we’ve lied to make our point of view.”

It makes you hope that Stellastarr*’s debut isn’t wholly a lie.

At points, the album is reminiscent of a fluid amalgam of The New Pornographers and The Raveonettes (with whom they recently toured).

Stellastarr* capably makes the statement that they have made it onto the indie rock scene.

Stellastarr* makes for a fun diversion, but like most other debuts, it won’t make the arsenal of unforgettable rock: it’s not The Smiths or The Cure.