When the autumn sun says good night at 18:00, a person is lucky to be in Stereo laboratory a concert where sunlight is created using electronic and analogue musical instruments.
Many such chilly Vancouverites huddled in the crowd, on the block and around the corner, waiting for Vogue to open its doors so they could shake off their woes in a cave of psychedelic krautrock avant-garde pop.
After a hiatus in 2009 and a reunion in 2019, Stereolab fans have been hungry for new material – only to be blessed this year. Instant holograms on metal filmthe band's first new album of new material in over 15 years.
Inside the venue, a line of fans made their way up the stairs leading to a colorful merch area where fans were handed out T-shirts to decide which color they would represent.
People streamed down the floor of the venue, supporting their favorite craft brewery. Beautiful patterned wallpaper rises to the ceiling, which resembles waves, liquid yet solid—the perfect setting for the band's smooth yet firm, chugging rhythms.
Openers Bitchin Laws were, as their name suggests, pathetic. They started their set with gentle synth plucks that turned into a hypnotic symphony. Somehow, like an explosion coming at you, they turned the simplest melodies into something more through repetition and reinterpretation.
After Bahasa, the crowd began to occupy the area where they would be for the next two hours.
The excitement was palpable, with funky acid jazz blasting from the speakers. People came forward as if God was about to take the stage—and she did.
The lights dimmed and the synth melody of “Aerial Troubles”, the single from their new album, began to play. The band arrived at their seats and effortlessly threw themselves into the performance.
At this moment the crowd spoke, but did not put the bodies where the mouth was. This is typical of Vancouver crowds – especially in the fall, it can seem like a city of quiet, sad hipsters, and this crowd seemed to be a collection of exactly those types. Either way, most viewers need to warm up a bit.
This became clear during their second song, “Motorroller Scalatron,” from their beloved 1996 album. Imperial tomato ketchupWhat Joy Sadier unlike any other frontman. She stepped away from the microphone and picked up her black Fender Mustang by the keyboard—her effortless enthusiasm and level of comfort on stage was refreshing and oddly shocking. She managed to completely calm the crowd, and with each song played, people began to relax and give in.
Their third song, “Vermona F Transistor” – also from their new album – featured meandering synth passages with excellent backing vocals from Julien Gasque (bass) and Joseph Watson (keyboards), which fortunately continued throughout the set and complemented Sadier's vocals beautifully.
“You can express yourself, we’re all in this together, right?” Sadier asked the audience before the fourth song. Her little request was taken to heart by many in the room; after that the energy in the room changed and people started to relax a little. Sometimes all you need is a little permission to let your feelings out.
After that, the crowd finally began to warm up. They then played 1997's A Flower Called Nowhere. Dots and loops. This song was definitely a crowd pleaser as when Sadier announced the title of the song there were sweet screams of jubilation. This track was a melting LSD flavored ice cream cone and things really started to click for the best. The audience, the music, the performer, the guitar, the piano, the synthesizer, the drums – everything began to merge into a whole greater than the sum of its parts. Music floated through the air and penetrated the bodies of those who allowed it.
Sadier announced their next song, “Capitalism Is a Wound,” and a woman in the crowd heartily shouted, “Borders shouldn’t exist!” At this point, the group's message began to emerge clearly.
The Stereolab show is itself a political performance. The band has a message that they convey through words and music – the beauty and strangeness of human existence, and the need for revolution.
Sadier's lyrics are filled with Marxist ideology, spiritual reflections and anti-religious sentiments, to name just a few of her interests. As the show went on, the entire band, with Sadier taking center stage, clearly enunciating every word and frequently addressing the audience, became the vehicle for their political message. It’s amazing how they manage to combine “joy of life” with “long live the revolution!” I guess their message may be that they go hand in hand.
On “Capitalism Is a Wound,” Sadier also picked up her trombone, demonstrating yet another reason why she might be the coolest person alive.
Next, the group released a sound wave – the crowd began to pulsate. The young audience moved feverishly around the stage, bringing the night to a peak of energy.
The song closed in a cycle that built on itself – the drums became more jazzy, and the music became more transcendental and chaotic. And just when you think it's over, it's not. They riff over and over again, building and building, proving that they are true masters of their craft who understand how to give themselves over to something greater—perhaps the very spirit of the music.
The crowd erupted into applause – as if Stereolab had just created a dragon, wielding it, allowing it to spin out of control for a few moments before taking control of it.
“At the end of the day, there’s energy in the room,” Sadier teased.
The next song they played was the new album track “If You Remember I Forgot How to Dream Parts 1 and 2” – another great track with a trombone solo – before we were introduced to the crowd favorite classic “Miss Modular”. Julien Gasque's bass playing here was absurd; along with Andy Ramsay's drumming, they brought jazz to the entire show.
The rest of the concert became even more energetic with tracks like “Electrified Teenybop!” and “Cybele’s Reverie,” and they closed it out with the infectious “Immortal Hands,” a familiar yet distinctive, soul-baring arpeggio that feels like gliding through open space, solving crimes and mysteries.
There is such obvious chemistry between the band members, even though they barely look at each other on stage. During “Esemplate Creeping Eruption,” Sadier leaned into her amp, all their guitars making one sound, a cave of space-age synths. It was Throne– like an adventure through sound, the band transforms into something completely different.
The lighting throughout the concert was phenomenal, with large rings of light bathing the audience, enhancing the effect of the audience merging with the performer.
The band left the stage after “Cybele's Reverie”, the crowd trampling a behemoth of hungry hippos that could only be sustained by music.
Before the encore with “The Way Will Be Opening,” Sadier said, “It's a revolutionary song to remember that life has this dimension and not to say it has to be bloody and cruel.”
After three songs he came out for an encore and the sound disappeared, as if it was a dream – the audience did not know what had just happened. It's like the Stereo Lab is aliens that landed here to give people instructions on how to live more beautiful, meaningful, fun, and cool lives.
