Record Exchange Boise

Reviews:

Stereolab are what happens when earnest, serious people make bubble music. These international blurtsmiths want to suggest the momentum and feel of pop without actually resembling it, so they funk like cats pawing the air, orchestrating the bleeps and pop chintz of alienated wonder, and I can't remember a better accompaniment for an endless checkout line. If the prevailing mood on the radio is upbeat nihilism, Stereolab are its exact opposite: depressed optimism. They get away with lyrics that sound like mistranslated English ("The joy to love/ To know/ To learn/ Are the essence of existence/ And so couldn't they govern it too?"), mostly because French-born singer Laetitia Sadier's left-brain is so clearly powered by a sinking heart that her sad, blank inexpressiveness gives each line the quality of a thought crossing her mind. (Guitarist Tim Gane's take-from-everywhere groove is just as cool in its whimsy.) Following the death of backup singer Mary Hansen last year, it was comforting to see the band power forward last year like distracted robots. They mourned by recording their first genuine disco song, a Can-meets-Kylie number that they now shoehorn into an already bursting album-their first since 1996's Emperor Tomato Ketchup worth buying for more than two songs. After 13 years, their music has suddenly multiplied its good ideas, not the least of which is to take us out dancing.