RECORD REVIEW

Funk from the lab

Who said that it has to last for at least an hour to be good? At 40 minutes, Stereolab’s new seven-song release beats the hell out of most other albums that will come out this summer. The First of the Microbe Hunters is a fun title, I guess, but it’s disappointing that they’ve already squandered this album’s more fitting name on an earlier, comparatively less worthy effort entitled Space-Aged Bachelor Pad Music.

This time around, Stereolab expands on its 1999 LP, Cobra and Phases Group Play Voltage in the Milky Night. Although it even stays with the same font on the album cover, Stereolab explores its funkier side on the new release with songs that would have probably stuck out like sore thumbs on Cobra and Phases, and required the group to release it as a fragmented double disc.

Bridging the two releases, the first track on Microbe Hunters, "Outer Bongolia," is a scorching nine-minute block of layered goodness, composed of Stereolab’s patented droning and oscillating vibraphone-funk ... mmmmm. The following tracks are mostly variations on a groove-based theme. Some tracks, such as "Barock-Plastik," are even downright danceable. "Nomus et Phusis" begins as a bossa nova daydream, waking in a midsong groove that temporarily allows "boogie" back into the hipster lexicon. This short album is a collection of mesmerizing jaunts through electric clouds in space ... or something like that.

The First of the Microbe Hunters entertains as it soothes, mellowing out and loosening up even the tensest listener. In the tradition of Fraunchie lounge lizards such as Serge Gainsbourg, Stereolab, in conjunction with the advent of the compact disk, has created a portable shelter for bohemians of all ages. So dim the lights and pass the Beaujolais. This band can do no wrong.

Robert Gorell writes about music for Metro Times.