It’s been far too long since the world last heard the hypnotic and textural pop of Stereolab. In the tepid context of '90s grunge and pop punk, their sound was a refreshing blast of cold water: analog synths, horns, and clean guitar tones layered in complex rhythms replaced the era’s grinding power chord guitar distortion and angst-y vocals. Marrying French pop, jazz, and electronica with the floating minimalist textures of bands like Tortoise and Chicago Underground Quartet, Stereolab delivered a poppy and accessible sound without sacrificing musical complexity.
Chemical Chords is Stereolab’s first album since 2004’s Margerine Eclipse, not including their wonderful EP collection, Fab Four Suture. While the band has had four years to dabble in side projects and grow musically, the album is surprisingly similar to their previous work: uplifting bubblegum sounds darkened with repetitive layers of guitar, synth, and mallet percussion. As usual, the sound itself is so unique, the textures so intriguing, that what might come across in another context as too sweet for digestion actually sounds refreshing and innovative.
“One Finger Symphony” layers dissonant vibraphone, descending guitar lines, dirty synth, and funky horn flourishes over analog drum machine sounds. In “Chemical Chords,” saccharine sweet strings wind over what initially sounds like an old Motown groove. Of course, when the dreamy, disconnected vocals enter, the music sounds only like Stereolab. Likewise, “The Ecstatic Static” marries mellow R&B brass, strings, and organ with the band’s signature bouncing bass lines and minimalist chinking guitars and organ, making for a piece that’s as dreamily hypnotic as it is pleasant and poppy.
As with the band’s other work, many of the songs on Chemical Chords sound similar enough to one another that even immediately after listening to the album, it’s difficult to recall which song had which bridge, etc. But it doesn’t matter because each musical moment is so good. The similar string and horn flourishes create connective tissue between the cuts so that Chemical Chords is as much a musical suite as it is a collection of individual songs. The fact that the music is seemingly so repetitive keeps the listener in a trance so that the constant but subtle changes in time and orchestrational color hit even harder. Of course, Laetitia Sadier’s voice is a powerful color in and of itself. Never too emotionally involved, it often carries a beautiful existential quality that keeps the music from being too buoyant.
Despite the trance-like continuity, there are plenty of standout tracks in the 50 minutes of music. “Pop Molecule (Molecular Pop 1)” features heavy synth over rhythmic swishing sounds moving between the speakers: the song is much bigger than its name implies—it’s more like a pop explosion, especially given the context of so many of the album’s other songs, which sit in the medium tempo, medium volume range. “Fractal Dream Of A Thing” is another highlight. Sadier’s voice floats in emotional disconnection over off-kilter, funky tremolo guitar and marimba. Each time the song seems like it’s about to settle into a groove, it’s twisted out of place with an abrupt tempo or chord change, though in true Stereolab fashion, the resulting product comes across as surprisingly smooth given the musical complexity.
With Chemical Chords, Stereolab certainly isn’t reinventing itself—so many of the songs on Chemical Chords sound like they could just have easily been on Emperor Tomato Ketchup or Margerine Eclipse. But given that even after so much time has elapsed, the music is still as intriguing and unique as it ever was, it doesn’t really matter. Chemical Chords is simply another great Stereolab album—one that sucks you in the first time around and stands up to plenty of repeated listens.
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