Stereolab Margerine Eclipse

I recently dismissed Stereolab's entire raison d'etre in my review of Instant 0 in the Universe, presuming myself to be safe in the knowledge that their best was irretrievably behind them. So when Dave handed me Margerine Eclipse, reassuring me that 'this one's supposed to be better', I wasn't too worried. I've got about 1000 Stereolab records, and half of them are fairly interchangeable. Since they got involved with the ponderous poison empire of Chicago post-rock I'd lost interest; part of me yearned for them to return to their pure pop origins, whilst the remainder assumed that, even in the unlikely event that they did so, no more variants existed within the formula. In record shops, my eyes swept past their new releases, although as a once-obsessive devotee of The Groop I secretly felt a nagging guilt about my betrayal; the same kind of vaguely ridiculous feeling you get on finding your once-beloved teddy squashed flat, entangled in a musty box full of embarrassing teenage boxer shorts and sentimental knick-knacks that you can't quite bring yourself to abandon to some worthy jumble sale or other. Despite this, I knew I'd never buy another Stereolab release, and, to be fair, I haven't, but only because this is a promo; a promo that shows them at their strongest since Emperor Tomato Ketchup, no less. Pass the margarine - I'm going to need plenty of it to force down all the humble pie I need to eat...

The expected elements are all there: the retro-futuristic graphics, the dumb titles and the occasionally po-faced lyrics. However, there's also the presence of High Llama maestro Sean O'Hagan; a collaborator whose grandiose pop sensibilities always suited Stereolab far better than the annoying jazz refractions favoured by Tortoise's John McEntire. After the tragic and untimely death of Mary Hansen, Laetitia Sadier is left with sole vocal responsibilities, and whilst the album doesn't necessarily suffer due to this, the loss of Hansen is felt most in the absence of her voice in the mix. Obviously, it would be presumptuous to infer that any stylistic decisions have occurred as a result of the band's loss, but the wealth of positive and beautiful material on Margerine Eclipse, which is dedicated to her memory, feels like an appreciation and celebration of life, and makes for a fitting tribute to her talents. Need to Be's kaleidoscopic optimism is on a par with anything from Manitoba's Up in Flames; ...Sudden Stars is in better company as part of the seamless whole than it was heading up the Instant 0 EP, and strangely, some tracks only make sense when listening to the album from start to finish (La Demeure, Margerine Rock).

The enjoyably throw-away Bop Scotch, Vocal Declosion and the Daft Punk-in-a-floatation-tank of Margerine Melodie can be isolated and appreciated, but to really get the most from Margerine Eclipse, consume it in its entirety in one sitting: songs that appear to be fairly average when dipped into randomly take on new elements when they take their place in the overall sequence. After the energised spasms of Bop Scotch, for example, the closing Hawaiian rhapsody of Dear Marge bursts forth with such graceful beatitude it could probably coax flower-buds to open; inexplicably, it then turns into a full-on Saturday Night Fever moog outro to round things off, but we won't go too heavily into that...

Furthermore, the album actually benefits from being background music, and I don't mean that in the whale noise/jazz sludge sense: the mood of optimism and general perkiness, attributes that make me feel homicidal when they're exhibited by most people, are subtly transmitted over the whole listening experience, making this the perfect album to play as the general despondency of Winter dissipates and Spring approaches (See? It's even invaded my review, goddamn it...). Maybe, despite (or maybe because of) their loss, Stereolab are finding new reasons to make music; they definitely haven't sounded this vital for years. I might even buy the next one...