It was very nice of Laetitia Sadier to introduce each song that Stereolab played at Shinjuku Liquid Room Feb. 16. Though normally I find the practice distracting, in this case I was grateful, since the promoter hadn't provided a set list. (Concert reviewers like to give the impression that they know an artist's repertoire backward and forward, but usually we don't.) I was reminded of the first time I saw Talking Heads in 1978 and David Byrne's anal retentive thoroughness in making clear the name of each song before he played it.
Like the Heads, Stereolab favors form over other musical considerations. Normally, pop musicians who make a point of carving their songs out of marble and then buffing them to a brilliant luster either become automatons in concert, like former Stereolab member Sean O'Hagan's High Llamas, or avoid concerts altogether, like XTC.
But true pop overachievers treat each mode of expression as a distinct medium. The Heads' shows were never simply reiterations of songs. Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz kept things steady and focused while Byrne freaked out, and it was this tension that gave their concerts the crackling immediacy the records lacked.
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