In The Moog For Dancing? (Refried Ectoplasm [Switched On Volume 2] - Stereolab)

Member Name: indiecater

Product:	Refried Ectoplasm [Switched On Volume 2] - Stereolab
Date:	07/04/02 (29 review reads)
Rating:

Advantages: Flashback To The Intuitive Early Years.

Disadvantages: Fast Forward To The Assured Present Day.

Sound Dust is Stereolab's current album and apart from being one of this years freshest listens it marks a return to form for one the best Anglo/Gallic marriages ever. Time Gane (chords) and Laetitia Sadier (breathy vocals) are Stereolab's prime movers while Sean O'Hagan (Microdisney and The High Llamas) periodically engineers creative bursts from melody drenched guitars. If you haven't become acquainted with Stereolab's unique compositions then 'Refried Ectoplasm (Switched On Volume 2)' is a great starting point.

This compilation was released in 1995 and features 3 tunes ('Le Boob Oscillator', 'French Disco' and 'John Cage Bubblegum') not available on any of the bands other albums. It covers a fertile period of time for the band between the release of their debut album 'Switched On' in 1992 to 1995 when they shifted their creative sights a little. It boasts several singles and many hard to find releases that are essential for getting a handle on the 'labs eclectic persuasions.

'Refried..' plays superbly well considering it is a thrown together series of outtakes and singles. There is a distinct flow to the way each song follows its predecessor, a central thought that is executed using different guises. Initially the tunes sound a little homogenous but you'll find that each has its own bubbly personality just waiting to become your mate.

Listening to a less than fluid organ droning over some incomprehensible vocals may not be everyone's idea of a good time but in a curious sort of way the concoction that is 'Harmonium' would ruffle the feathers of even the most well turned out tree dweller. 'Le Boob Oscillator' remains one of Stereolab's finest moments. Laetitia never sounded so husky, the strumming is elegant and purposeful and the hallucinogenic finale will have you seeing kaleidoscope koala bea
rs such is the overpowering beauty of its vision.

As your veins struggle to contain the pressure exuded by racing red corpuscles 'Mountain' adds more fuel to the inner fire. My Bloody Valentine guitars fuzz by at speed, Andy Ramsey breaks 14 pairs of drumsticks in an attempt to control the flow directed by Sadier who rides the noise barrage like Ben Hur on speed. 'Revox' is similarly high on life, low on reflective moments and all the better for it.

After the cool bluster of the preceding forays 'French Disko' sounds almost clinical. The playing is tempered with pristine production and less feedback which duely passes the limelight to the vocalist who performs wonders without subtitles. The presentation is enhanced by several layers of harmonies and the odd intergalactical bleep that could have NASA really believing that ET's offspring have gone into showbusiness.

The intriguing 'Exploding Head Movie' displays Sadier rehashing a few indecipherable words over a psychedelic backdrop of echoing guitars and frenetic drumming. Sounding like it was recorded on a polar night where the conditions meant that the band had to play energetically to stay alive it'll have your leg muscles dancing in unison. The songs jaunty propulsion has enough power in its belly to illuminate small lighthouses and enough beforesight to communicate with ancient civilisations.

With Stereolab there is often little to titillate (unless you can speak French) in the words that are song. Laetitia Sadier could be singing about the problem of sour milk on perfectly formed cornflakes and it wouldn't matter because when her performance melds with the intricate moog dalliances, blistering guitars and energetic percussion the effect is consistently dazzling. Stereolab's music creates a mood, it's up to the listener to respond accordingly.
r>'Tone Burst (Country)' is a little out of step with the albums other cuts. Pretty diamond audio bursts from an unusually underused keyboard and a loose shuffle makes for a tune that is enjoyably forgettable. 'Animal Or Vegetable' lacks Enya's scope for ethereal vocals but then it harpoons your attention until you sit pensive like trying to work out why you're getting so affected by it all. The song initially shapes up like a Sigur Ros idea that gets lost about 7 minutes in when a debatable beat meets John Squire's second coming guitars. As empty as a spent thrifts piggy bank 'Animal Or Vegetable' fails to nail down any points for effort towards the end.

On any album where the contents are made up of the scraps that wouldn't fit on any album there is bound to be some deadwood. And so it is that 'Eloge D'Eros' isn't worth describing in any less glowing terms than it'll make your world rotate. Deadwood can be used to fashion wonderful furniture you see and any French girl that uses the word bum in a chorus deserves to be listened to. Mary Hansen helps out on vocals and keyboards on 'John Cage Bubblegum' where the rattle and hum from discordant instruments cooks a pleasant audio goulash for your senses not heard since Lennon said he was sick of paying such ridiculous prices for fruit at Wimbledon and decided to look elsewhere.

Organic thrills continues to appear from nowhere as the album progresses and the alluring vocals hang on for dear life as the stage coach like strumming guitar fills the air like fog on a winters morning. You can readily breath in the atmosphere but as you exhale it leaves no trace. The moment could easily run for infinity but the level headed musicians subtlety change tact ever so slightly to reveal where the party must crank down.

Appropriately enough Stereolab leave several huge slabs of electronica until
the end as if testing the water for future escapades that invest time in the art of the perfect keyboard sequence. 'Tempter' is as intoxicating as it is simplistic, as close to a Clinic like foray into offbeat electronica as you're likely to get. Imagine the thrill in having Amelie from last years best piece of cinematic escapism adding surly backing vocals and you get the picture. The unexpected schziophrenic drumming is the perfect foil to undermine the straight forward yet flawless moog suites. A perfect end to a sonic adventure of magnifique proportions.

Like landing on the moon in your dreams Stereolab produce a sound on this compilation that is just too good to be real, too real to be imaginary. They have crafted their own distinctive aura that has altered little since the early days. The fact that they continue to spin rich melodies from their raw materials owes a lot to their song writing skills. While the band forever inhabit the fringes of the pop world there is so much to reward anyone with the will to plunder their back catalogue.