Sound Dust
Once upon a time, there were mixtapes. A friend would make you a mixtape to introduce you to a band that, according to them, was worth listening to. Technically, they were terrible, with the constant risk that the cassette player, true to its name, would decide to chew up the tape. Then, since many were taken in the car to listen to during trips, inevitably dust would accumulate, and the scorching summers of the beautiful country ended up blurring the plastic casing.
For many years, my experience with Stereolab was limited to one of these tapes, which contained a sort of best of from the aforementioned friend—best of tracks up to 1994 (the year it dated back to). Since then, in 2001, quite some time had passed, but despite those dark and throbbing sounds that had always fascinated me, I had never bought anything else. Until, for some reason, with the release of this 'Sound Dust,’ I decided to get it. And finally let myself be captivated by the magic of Stereolab. It was love at second sight, then.
Unfortunately, this album retrospectively assumes another important significance in the band's history: it was the last unreleased record by Mary Hansen, the backing vocalist (but calling her a backing vocalist is very limiting) who passed away the following year in a car accident in London. The album is truly beautiful: Laetitia's voice floats more lightly than ever through the grooves; graceful and enchanting, she sings melodies as soft as snow, pursued by Mary's fairy-tale counter-melodies, an elf devoid of language that contrasts with Laetitia's vetero-Marxist theorems. But perhaps what strikes even more about ‘Sound Dust’ are the sounds: so precise and pure that they lack materiality. The richness of sound particles, the fullness, the variety of the arrangements constitute the essential core of the work, its charm, and its key to interpretation.
"Sound Dust" isn't a record of songs, it could be a single long suite that unfolds over 63 minutes, a suite organic yet non-repetitive. Indeed, for those who accuse Stereolab of never having evolved, it would be enough to compare past albums with this one where repetition is a totally absent musical idea. In fact, it seems that Tim Gane really wanted to do something new and construct the album to favor variations: of rhythm, arrangements, and melodies.
"Sound Dust" is an album that gently caresses the listener, invites them on a journey, seduces them in a land of dreams, and then leaves them surprised, directionless, amidst the sound dust.