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Home , Stereolab

, January 29 1994 1 7

STEREOLAB Gallic Jean Shrimpron, umm, married neo-Seventies schlock with truly THE GRAND, Andy Williams, put out a single, I think thuggish drums, while the final number, FOR a band who've run some pretty - well before your time). No offence. "Sub Pop", (hah!) buzzes and thrums weighty theories up pop's flagpole in And yes, that mix of carefully like a phalanx of furry old valve amps. their time. have a fabulous enunciated French with indeterminate By the time they've hit that point. lightness of touch. billing and cooing and endless rounds Stereolab have gathered the kind of mad Like all self-respecting neo-Situationists, of dum-dah-dum-dah-dah-dah-dah- momentum that comes from running they're totally committed to the pleasure dum-dum is utterly beguiling. down a steep hill far too fast; the speed principle, which might explain how As you'd expect of any band that builds until you're drunk and giddy and come they gush with life and seem to uses not only a cheesey old but couldn't stop it if you wanted to. You ride on such incredible, spring-heeled also a Moog synth, and has a song don't. Sadly, Stereolab are man enough positivity. That they do is kind of named after Werner Herzog's to please themselves. The hum and burr surprising, given their wryly cinematographer, ("Popol Vuh"), drop gently away and there's no encore. self-referential name (and God, it's so there's a subtext. I'm buggered if I Quelle dommage. perfect for them), their post-modernist know what it is, though. What Ido SHARON O'CONNELL dabbling, love of all things lo-fi and know is that, when Stereolab swoon their obsession with creaky bits of old in with "Superelectric", I'm with them technology. all the way. Tonight Stereolab are a much bigger I also know that they're audacious concern than I remember, but then it's enough to test-drive five new songs been a while. It's not just that there are tonight, the first of which is "Wow And seven of them up there, but that their Flutter". It's soft and surprising as a songs, once so careful and skeletal, have bathful of warm birds, with a definite filled out, too. They swell out in great, Lush touch. (This is something they fulsome waves, lapping lusciously about might want to keep an eye on.) They our ears before being reeled slowly in charge through the utterly addictive and then flowing back out again. They "French Disco" (Stereolab love their Pic: Alison Wonderland. are liquid and lush and casually jokey self-references) way too fast exuberant, so much fleshier and warmer but it still shines. Pop songs this good than all those theories suggest, but with appear less frequently than Halley's a cool self-possession. Comet. Another new one, "Staccato This is due mostly to vocalist Laetitia, Susan", shifts and shimmies and whose murmured vocals indicate her heaves with the same kind of THE FINAL blissful state of self-absorbtion. She's crazy, runaway impetus as the FRONTIER tres Sixties in her beige ribbed sweater rest. "Heavy Denim" is just that- and bob, very Claudine Longet (kind of a take on Lawrence Felt's CLUB UKr WANDSWORTH THE Lunar Room a t The Final Frontier is lik e the set o f "The W o rd " - b rig h t, multi-coloured and kitsch. There a re oil w heels, : D ay-G lo sculptures, a vaguely resembling her former self. D a le k a n d , fo r LA2, LONDON Who ordered this transformation? Clearly not Pics: Mark Benney of NO longer the bunch of innocents who pleaded for a the guitar and bass-playing Hogan brothers, who puts on a show . Chewits and Crest packets. It's chance with their album title. The Cranberries give the churn out the tunes with all the enthusiasm o f a The beat stops, Friday night and d ie place is impression of being thehardest group around now boxer who's been paid to lose the fight. They may the frock b reaks dow n dealing with their insecurities. Delores O'Riordan, the get to paddle in the slipstream of fame, but do so rammed with a barmy army of ■ yrd cheesy quavers (ravers) clutching quiet girl who found confidence in a haircut and pair in the knowledge that any passion they display sequence, he closes flyers which claim to be of jackboots, projects this: she appears tonight as the will be overshadowed by tneir whirling, his eyes and lifts his arm s passports "to oblivion". self-crowned queen of no-nonsense sensitivity, a stomping, scowling, emotional black hole of a in ecstasy. To screams and Sun hats, smileys an d A ndy dungareed Tasmanian Devil ready to sneer at anyone singer - She Who Must HaveAlllhe Attention. wolf-whistles he then grins Pandy dungarees may seem just N ot that Delores is in any w ay and pages on like a kid in a distant memory, but the daft, conceited; she just behaves like a kindergarten, playing his childlike essence o f w h a t w e bona fide rock'n'roll star. She forthcoming hologramatic appears draped in an American coco single, "Loops O f Infinity", flag, just to make the point that out soon on Logic. The Cranberries have the world's W iltsh ire they had 3 0 ,0 0 0 "In fin ity " is also the nam e o f biggest rock m arket on its the so-called am b ien t room , knees, then lets rip with the dodgems and spinning on decked in Day-Glo sea voice that Sinead once claimed gyroscopes with silly painted creatures for an aquarium for Ireland. And she has the races. Final Frontier is a vibe. Here we seek a crowd cheering and wishing her scaled-down version in a zero-tem po zone to recharge. well, because they can tell that's concrete bunker behind what she wants. Except that there's nowhere W w ■ " ©, In short, Delores to sit dow n and A le x Paterson You can't miss it - there's a overcompensates. But only and Lewis o f The O rb m ix yet tan k w ith a w h a le on top becausethat's what proper more techno. (Surely some parked outside... rock'n'roll people do. After all, mistake?) It's too hot, mineral who's gonna take any notice water is £1.50, and there is of melodies that drift like early talk of cold taps being turned garage and hardcore in favour morning mist, instrumentation off. Sort it out, please! of techno, flying in the legends that signs with w istful, quiet Our evening finishes in from Germany, Belgium and honesty, and words that tremble Mother Earth, the central party Detroit and, tonight, including a in the face of love's majesty? The arena haunted by bli^-vert trick is to lure the crowd into a rare live set from Berlin's state of em pathy; to convince synthesiser guru Cosmic Baby, London posse of Carl Cox, them that a good time lies ahead the king of trance. Trained in Dave Angel and Fabi© Paras, if they justjoin in! piano at the Nuremberg is D ID a g , Frankfurt's N a tiv e The Cranberries, then, have C onservatory from the ag e o f American descendant whose sold their souls to the spirit of seven, he is obsessed w ith the techno is excessive, the crush rock'n'roll in order to sneak their cosmos and Eastern religion. of sweaty limbs leaving us very essence past the iron gates Stealing from Tangerine panting fo r a ir . Time to ta k e of apathy. And, oddly enough, Dream, he weaves a uniquely the courtesy "space shuttle" it seems to be worth it. spectral sound - hard rhythms "Linger" is the effortless pay-off back to T ra fa lg a r S quare. As softened by angelic string for the silent respect afforded the the fly e r says, "O pen yo u r and piano melodies. "He's new m aterial, tracks like m ind... and your body will a genius," Hie person next to "Zom bie" and "So Cold In fo llo w ..." me rasps. "H e's the n e w Jean Ireland" striking an emotional SARAH CHAMPION chord with an integrity that's Michel Jarre!" chillingly pure. Bathed in white light. Cosmic A t moments like this, there's Baby; r r 1 yKsfiy an overwhelming honesty. techno g eek. Stripped to the W e're touched, spoken to. waist and glistening with sweat, Does this mean that The the baby-raced 27 year old looks Cranberries can now go back like a member of Take That - to being themselves? W e need high cheekbones, pouting lips, Pic: TimPaton Delores to be Tank Girl as much a sun tan and muscle-bound as she needs us to be soppy and phy-y. The Cranberries forgiving. The most animated dance Long m ay the a ffa ir continue. performer since Moby, he sure IAN W ATSON