Oh, it's fine.

Instant Holograms On Metal Film | artist: Stereolab — I always preferred reading music reviews about Stereolab's music to actually listening to the music itself.

I saw them once in the early or maybe the mid 90s when they came through Washington, DC. I didn't know they would be playing that night — I think I had gone to see a friend's band play. I found the groop to be both mesmerizing and boring. I don’t know which part of that equation I like more in hindsight.

I remember asking a much more worldy music-listening friend what he thought about them and his reply was succinct: "Oh, it's fine". And he said it in the way you describe a 3-star airport hotel.

Stereolab's music can feel at times too perfect. In its hodgepodge (yes, I am using the word 'hodgepodge') of references to Krautrock, the Velvet Underground, French jazz, the Beach Boys, other weird pop, and an often droney arpeggiated electronica, Stereolab sort of created their own genre. It's music that sounds decent when you hear it come on the speakers in a used bookshop.

You say "Stereolab" and people might ask you "more drone or more pop?" but they'll get what you are saying. I find the same thing happens with Yo La Tengo. Though YLT sometimes come across as more, um, visceral? (In an NPR pledge drive sort of way). Maybe this new album — their first in what feels like 30 years (I think it's actually 15) — represents an attempt to create an album that finally and formally establishes “Stereolab” as a fully realized genre unto itself. Maybe if you were to close your eyes and say “Stereolab” aloud three times, this music would be the result.

It is music that might better be described by describing what famous scenes from films the songs would remind you of. I will not indulge in that practice here. But feel free to try this out with your friends.

Nevertheless, Stereolab is the kind of band that either you love to write about or you hate to write about. Those who love to write about them can do so knowing that they get to show off how smart they are. These are music journalists with degrees in creative writing or maybe they were failed film majors.

But they are people who can appreciate lyrics. And Stereolab's lyrics have always played with love (or something like it), nostalgia, place and memory, and politics (or something like it). As they sang on "Cybele’s Reverie" from 1996:

L'enfance est plus authentique

The problem then, typical to songs with strong lyrics, is that we fall into discussions of "what it all means". And there is only so much time in the day. At their best, Stereolab's words and music tumble together into just patterns of sound.

That said, there are words that are designed to pry your eyes open within the jazzy major 7th chords of the otherwise breezy "Melodie is a Wound" on the new album.

Flawed, the extradition request
Blown, the freedom of conscience
Is there some form of justice possible or
So long, public's right to know the truth
Gagged, muzzled by the powerful

This will not come as a surprise to members of Team Stereolab.

Therein lies something wonderful about this music. It is the type of thing you would hear in some early reggae. You'd hear it in The Clash. You hear it all throughout Hip-Hop. It's an unrepentant political voice singing to you over a head bobber or candy-like melody that acts as an umbrella obscuring the words from prying eyes. It is the best way to get your message ingrained into the Conversation.

This was there from the beginning (see "Lo Boob Oscillator" from 1993):

Réceptive et absorbante
De la lumière qu'elle renvoie
Elle rayonne au-dessus des toits
Et fluctue de çà et là
Changeante, fascinante
Parfois même éblouissante
C'est ainsi qu'on l'aperçoit
Disque parfait, disque lumineux
Ne vous rappelle-t-elle pas l'hostie/le style ?
De ceux qui lèvent la tête
Dans l'espoir de s'élever un peu
Transitoire, unique, symbolique
De quelques visions imaginaires
Elle en impressionne plus d'un
Qui prennent peur et délirent

Elle est au-dessus de tout ça

In the heady days of the mid-90s, there seemed to be two sides to Stereolab. One side was the drone-and-beat-driven sound of the opener "Metronomic Underground" on the 1996 album Emperor Tomato Ketchup — which, as it spreads out over 7 1/2 minutes, gets you in that kind of headspace you get into listening to an extended Fela Kuti number. The other side of Stereolab resembles something like a love theme from an imaginary French movie about people who wear jaunty hats and frolic (in a detatched way) through the city. This new album unfortunately has too much of the latter — see the latter half of "Immortal Hands" as the perfection of that sound encapsulated. That said, there are many beautiful moments through out the album. My favorite song is "Le Coeur et la Force" — it is a wonder of wistfulness and a sort of emancipated recognition of the divine — or the divinity of communication and words or places themselves — that comes on like an unexpected hymn.

De l'origine
Le soir à l'heure
Des profondeurs
La force divine
À peine visible
Sourd l'egrégore
Ta clé de voûte
L'éternité
Nous est prêtée

And the end of "Flashes from Everywhere" is nothing if not lovely. And, for that matter, "Esemplastic Creeping Eruption" seems to play with and deconstruct this mode of cute-song, which is nice. Stereolab seem to take stock in the breaking down of all things, including the song itself. If there is one thing the songs do well, it is to confound as to what to expect next in the song. There are many twists and turns. But even as I type this, I can't help but shake the feeling that even throughout the multi-passaged songs, I ended up feeling just, well, distracted.

To be honest, I find much of it to be rather tiresome. But (this review — which I don't think actually talked about the album at all — being the exception to the rule) it always has the effect of turning out some smart music writing, so I guess that’s something. But you get what you get. And if you want some of that "Stereolab" music, I guess this is the place to get it. Don't complain. You asked for it. And you knew exactly what you were going to get. Just think of them as like the AC/DC of avant-pop. It's fine. | 2.5 out of 5 stars