Totally in-stereo

If you’ve ever found yourself caught on the loud end of someone trying to explain the music of Stereo Total, you may have been confused, if not frightened. Trying to accurately describe the sonic oddity that is this band can quickly break down into an endless march of haphazard, juxtaposed, redundant (if not entirely contradictory)terms and mixed metaphors so recklessly used as to render their collective meaning as useful as a snooze button on an underwater smoke-alarm. As you’ve probably already guessed, this article will be no exception, but we’ll gloss over that.

Stereo Total is composed of Fran‡oise Cactus and Brezel G”ring (hailing from Paris and Berlin, respectively). When they started making music together back in 1993, the lyrical content of their first “song” was actually a spoken cooking recipe of sexual innuendos that went on for 10 minutes. During the years that followed, the band made a name for themselves creating quirky, multilingual music that I’ll sheepishly categorize as Kraut/Frog-Garage-Kitch-Rocktronica. Or something. Think home-recorded synth-pop beats added to your brother’s amateurish punk band circa 1978. But done in a very intelligent, adult way. But by “intelligent,” I mean silly. And by “adult,” I mean childish.

Right, so where does this new record fit in? Overall, “Paris-Berlin” de-emphasizes the synthesizers and samplers which took center stage in the last few records and concentrates on more accessible rock structures. Songs like “Plastic,” “Plus Minus Null” and especially “Modern Musik” have a deliciously cheap, dirty and fast punk-rock feel to them, which had been missing from the band of late. Great stuff to blast in your car. Of course, the signature Stereo Total sense of humor remains pervasive. “Plus Minus Null” is written with a literal and direct (and appropriately German) hand. Some sample lyrics (translated): “So much sorrow for so little love … so much talking for so little sex.” A solid punk rock sentiment.

At the opposite end of the spectrum is the slow, minimalist “Baby Revolution,” which takes the writing of Canadian filmmaker, photographer, queer-punk zine editor Bruce LaBruce and sets them to a kitchy, catchy electronic loop. One of the few tracks in English, the song is an absolute delight, whether you find the lyrics clever or just crude: “The Revolution is my girlfriend … Put your Marxism where your mouth is … Give up your Bourgeois fixation on monogamy.”

So it should go without saying that “Paris-Berlin” isn’t for everyone. If you think music should take itself completely seriously, this is actually a great one to avoid. If on the other hand, you prefer music with a vulgar, tongue-in-cheek attitude and no effort to stay in any one genre or language, this record might just be something to check out. But let’s get one thing straight – it’s not “Stereo Toe-Dull,” it’s “Stereo Tow-Tal” as in turkey TALons. Say it with me, now. Don’t argue – this is for your own good. It’s just something that an appreciator of music should be able to do at the college level – like pronouncing Chan Marshall’s name or opening a bottle of Pabst without losing a tooth.