There are three musical instruments I have no tolerance for. They are the bongos, the harmonica and the lap-steel guitar. I can't stand hippies, I hate male singer/songwriters and all music made outside large cosmopolitan cities (that is, country music) is completely regressive.
In light of these three facts I have a very uneasy relationship with the first single from Stereolab's 2001 album Sound Dust, Captain Easychord. One could describe it as love/hate, and with most things attributed that designation, it is a little confusing. Stereolab are the most urbane of bands. They are Parisian chic, London's worldly curiosity and New York's melting pot. They are a band of true musicologists and progressive political intellects. So what the fuck are they doing using a lap-steel guitar as in Captain Easychord? I can still recall the utter revulsion I felt upon hearing its pathetic yokel whine when I first heard the track. I felt personally betrayed. The one band I thought I could always rely on to be on the right side of musical expression had turned on me. They'd moved their spiritual home from La Rive Gauche to fucking Nashville and I wasn't happy. The single version cuts off at 2.54 and not even it's bilingual lyrics can save it from being utter rubbish. However, the album version of the song contains two sections, the second of which restores the band to its sophisticated glory. Its ascending electronic squelches and Mary Hansen's coo'd ba-da-ba-ba-ba-da-ba-ba are just delectable, resurrecting my admiration for them. Luckily the lap-steel guitar made no further appearance on that album on any subsequent Stereolab releases.
Captain Easychord - Stereolab
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