It's too bad advertising is a detestable crime against humanity, because any song on Margerine Eclipse would make a great car commercial soundtrack. Nothing if not cinematic, Stereolab has concocted yet another album that sounds like it was meant to pass you by in one shot. Whereas some previous works suited the lights-out, bong-on-the-floor, solo head trip, Margerine Eclipse calls us out into the sunlight. Stereolab has made a career out of nearly parodying the clinical side of electronica. For all the panoramic majesty of the band's compositions, a tangible, upbeat playfulness abounds. Devoted fans may take issue with the way Stereolab seems to have traded in its old edginess for warmth, but the casual listener may as well start here. Margerine Eclipse adequately introduces the band's trademarks: melodic, synth-driven pieces with traces of math rock, faux disco and European folk with sweet layers of husky female lead vocals poured on top and dusted with French lyrics. And though some songs miss the scratchy, lo-fi feel of Stereolab's earliest work and the arty leanings and analog density of later albums, the band proves that you can make real butter out of Margerine.
