There isn’t anything more punk than meeting up during a worldwide pandemic and forming a band with your best friends. And while San Jose’s Star 99 might be on the way up, their name is still on the bottom line of the concert poster of the (sold out) Growing Up is Dumb music festival that takes place April 5 in LA.
For lead vocalist Saoirse Alesandro, that show will be the culmination of a personal dream: the band’s first national tour.
“So it’s just really cool,” Alesandro beams from her current home in SF, “because my band mates have been in other bands that have toured—so they’ve done it before. Our bass player Chris (Gough) was in a Screamo band named Matsuri. Thomas (Calvo) and Jeremy (Romero) have been in bands that toured. So they’ve had the experience, but I’ve never done anything like this before in my life. Twenty shows on the road or something like that? So it’s cool.”
“Cool” is a choice word to describe Star 99. Consider that Saoirse’s father is Greg Alesandro, a multi-instrumentalist who played every instrument with SF’s all-Asian ska band The Chinkees. Aaron Carnes, author of In Defense of Ska, asserts, “I honestly think that The Chinkees’ records are some of the best, most underrated, ska albums from the late ’90s era.”
Signed to Asian Man Records, Greg did what all cool dads would do: He got his daughter a job at the record packing plant.
“We all met going to punk shows when we were kids,” Alesandro says. “And then we met again packaging records. So we just wanted to kind of do a band forever. I had been reading singer-songwriter kind of things. My dad taught me to play guitar around like 11. And, I went to school for poetry. Then I went to school for graphic design. So everything’s kind of meshing together. I don’t know. But the band has become kind of like the only thing that I care about. Don’t tell my boss!”
It’s not easy to be in your 20s, and in love with your band, and wondering if being a full-time musician will pay the bills. The Future of Music Coalition, a nonprofit organization, publishes studies that envision a world where artists are compensated with a just wage, and also promotes transparency in the entertainment industry. Which is great. But in 2025, the average yearly wage for touring musicians was under $20K. Luckily, it’s the music that draws the musician, not the payday.
“My dad is hardcore Gen X, and he says we sound like a band that belonged in the 1990s. Which is a huge compliment,” Alesandro says. And it’s true. Thirty years ago, Sleater-Kinney ground the glass ceiling into a fine powder, launching what became the Riot Grrrl scene. But Star 99 isn’t Sleater-Kinney, any more than Star 99 is anyone but uniquely, and exquisitely, themselves.
It would be so much easier for you, the reader, to go to Bandcamp and sample some of Star 99’s music (and then buy them) than to read this music journalist’s review. Listen to the music. You’ll know immediately if you like them or not, and not have to read a single word. But here you go.
Star 99’s latest album, Gaman, on Lauren Records (hosts of the Growing Up is Dumb fest), is 10 tracks of time-traveling bliss. Alesandro’s poetic vocals soar over the opening track, “Kill.” The driving guitars, bass and drums create a sonic landscape for her to skip over with a basketful full of herbs, flowers and bones.
“Every time we go to bed, we perpetuate ourselves, again and again,” sings Calvo on the second tune of Gaman, titled “Simulator.” The third track finds us back in the very capable vocals of Alesandro. This back and forth of Alesandro and Calvo songs serves the listener and the band.
Star 99 is reminiscent of Nebraska’s Tilly and the Wall, or maybe they’re not at all. Why the need to compare everything? Take a chance and seek out Star 99, get off the couch, live your life, fun is still there to be had, and Star 99 seems to know where it is.
Star 99’s three-week national tour kicked off March 15 in Chicago. The band plays April 2 at Open Gallery. Tickets: $20.
