Stereolab, Vic Theatre, 3.11.2006

Until last Saturday, Stereolab existed in my mind as not much more than a series of symbols. I'd for whatever reason never taken the steps to seek out what the group actually looked like, and was content with whatever imagery came to mind while listening---typically something along the lines of a group of Marxist scientists (white coats over black turtlenecks, probably) in a lab designed by Alphaville-era Godard alternately lounging, conversing and concocting musical compounds. So, on the way up to Chicago Saturday, I was equally anticipating both how the group (or groop, for the initiated) would translate their music to a live setting, and what the hell they actually looked like in person.

Philadelphia-based folk-psych-prog six-piece Espers opened the show, filling stage center with three women playing two acoustic guitars and a cello, bordered by a bassist, drummer and electric guitarist/multi-instrumentalist who was a dead ringer for either Joey Ramone or David Fricke---my contact lenses were blurry. Personally, I enjoyed them, but they were not the best opening act, especially in an abnormally hot and humid venue as was the Vic on Saturday. As the floor filled, it got uncomfortable to the point where we had to make our way up to the balcony in order to breathe and remove a layer of clothing. Which was good, because that's the perfect vantage point to view the band. I decided that Espers was good---the contrast between muted commune-folk and Robert Fripp-style guitar workouts were indeed something to behold---but definitely best enjoyed from a comfortable perch.

We remained up top for Stereolab's set (the show was sold out and the floor was packed---it must have been about 85 degrees down there), and when they arrived on stage, my hopes for a band of Truffaut extras were dashed as I saw what looked like a group of extremely hip session musicians. It's hard not to listen to Stereolab's music and think of them as eternally young, but that is definitely not the case. That burden off my mind, I was free to assess the actual musical portion of the evening, which ended up being most everything I could have hoped for. Because their recorded output sounds so deliberate and perfect, I was anticipating quite an interpretive change in the live version. Therefore, I was a bit stunned that the music I've been trying to parse out for over a decade translated so amazingly well and so true to the originals within a theatrical setting. These are crack musicians, and the grooves they were able to lock into are exponentially more hypnotic live. And it seemed perfectly fitting that songs I'd imagined coming from the minds of a group of empiricists were able to transport locales according to diagram.

They stayed with more recent stuff for the most part, knocking out three tracks from the recently released (and perhaps a bit overhyped by me in my initial gushiness) Fab Four Suture---"Eye of the Volcano", "I Was A Sunny Rainphase", and "Interlock", the last song of which featuring lead vocalist Laetitia Sadier on trombone, which is strangely alluring. In fact, three of the band's seven members multi-tasked---one alternating between keys, French horn and trumpet, and the one in the back all up in his PowerBook. There were actually four keyboards on stage, which forced me to wonder with my miniscule live musical brain which sounds were coming from where. Sadier, for her part, proved to be a very entertaining frontwoman---she kept the chatter to a minimum, but managed to dance around the stage between verses much more than I'd have expected. Again, my imagination (or lack thereof) gave me an impression of a petite, motionless ingenue---quite different from the brassy, bra-less and sandal-clad chanteuse I saw (you didn't think you'd get out of here without reading that word, did you?). Elsewhere, they ran through two of my favorites from Margarine Eclipse, "Vonal Declosion" (mp3), and "...Sudden Stars" (mp3), and thank goodness they managed to squeeze in my favorite, "Cybele's Reverie" (mp3) from the still-fresh Emperor Tomato Ketchup. The encore wound its way to an extended jam session, which after about 4 or 5 minutes morphed into the basic structure of "Metronomic Underground", sending the crowd into a frenzy upon hearing the very familiar rhythm that served as so many's entre to the group. Indeed, the same crowd that was antsy during Espers was downright reverential toward Stereolab---it's always great to hear a band stop a song on a dime (which Stereolab does often), leaving the rapt audience one or two seconds behind before roaring approval. I know that, for me, a large part of the reason I stood hooting and hollering was the fact that this music had arms and legs and was being created live in front of me. I honestly can't remember the last time I felt that way at a concert.

(live mp3s from Portland 2004)