Stereolab at Project House

Hot off the press of 2025 release ‘Instant Holograms on Metal Film’, Stereolab are experiencing a renaissance amongst the younger generation. This 90s Anglo-French ‘Groop’ show what it means to stay at the colourful forefront of avant-pop. 

Somebody cleverer than me once said that the best art builds worlds. Stereolab have, by enviably focusing only on the music they want to create, brought to existence a new universe. The listener is invited to ‘come and stay, bring the stars/Play with the milky night’ (from ‘Come and Play in the Milky Night’). As a result, these longstanding icons have garnered a cult following, one that, myself included, finds warmth in their unusual lyrics, vibrant melodies, and deceptively simple analogue synths. They are indeed a stereophonic laboratory, producing concoctions that meld found sounds with vintage keyboards; French lyricism with vocal distortion; and the idiosyncratic Dots and Loops referenced in the title of perhaps their most commercial album. Their live set at Project House was, much like their music, a chance to step inside this world, if just for a few hours.

First, we are treated to Brazilian band Mombojó who sparked the energy in the room – I’ve not seen a gig in Leeds so packed for the support. Their joyous performance was infectious: everyone around me was dancing. They had elements of Stereolab in their sound, which tracks to their Brazilian influences, particularly in Cobra And Phases Group Play Voltage In The Milky Night (1999). With a short break after Mombojó, the room began to hum with excitement that manifested as a broadening queue for the merch stall followed by an increased density in the crowd. Spaces were claimed, filled, and held onto for dear life as many around us strained for a better view.

Stereolab’s timeless mystique has sustained since 1992, somewhat-shoegaze debut Peng! across their 30 year+ discography. Instant Holograms on Metal Film (2025) keeps much of their classic charm whilst seamlessly mixing in newer sounds. I was excited to see how this expansive career would be constructed into one setlist. Finally, the wait was over as the new album’s opening track, ‘Mystical Plosives’, sends rippling synths into Project House as Stereolab assemble onstage.

Credited for the renaissance of vintage analogue keyboards, Stereolab’s legacy is firmly cemented in their Leeds set as an 80s buzz and looping electronic alien sounds take the walk-out track into ‘Aerial Troubles’, the gig so far following the order of Instant Holograms on Metal Film (2025). The crowd are enthusiastic for the new album – Stereolab have achieved that rare feat of heritage-levels of success in combination with continually boundary-pushing new music that holds fans’ interest. However, they quickly stray from the richness of the recent release, further into their repertoire. ‘Peng! 33’ picks up the energy, providing more space to the unique charm of Lætita Sadier’s lead vocals. This upbeat track leads into 1997 fan favourite ‘The Flower Called Nowhere’, which pairs a fun and flickery organ-infused waltz backing track with slower, more musing vocals. All the while, their music is peppered with flourishes such as an unplaceable retro spring noise or shiny glockenspiel-esque notes. In what may sound like a mess of garage electronica made with the random assortment of things found in said garage, Stereolab retain cohesion in their playful style. In the live setting, you can trust them as an audience: the set is naturally polished yet wonderfully candid in its veerings toward the absurd. 

The setlist time-travelled, recordings from across decades melding into a performance that kept attention on the present moment whilst filling the room with a distinctly 90s world. You might be surprised (as I was) to know that Stereolab formed at the start of Britpop. However, Stereolab’s focus on the electronic to soundtrack their ‘political poetry’ meant that they ‘stuck out like a sore thumb’ (as The Guardian describes) against the brash guitars and drawling voices of young British men. They wanted something different and found it: a lyrical, political and musical dizziness in the unique amalgamation of genres. Though their revolutionising of Euro-electronic is deeply felt, Stereolab are not lost to legacy; instead they are present, actively creating. 

Lætita Sadier, with her Anglo-French vocals, holds herself with an inherent stage presence. She dances intuitively whilst moving between the mic, keys and tambourine. Now in her 50s, Sadier is pleased to see ‘so many young people’ in the crowd, and we echo her affirmation of Stereolab’s relevance. Between the captivating, noodley instrumental interludes and the more dancey ‘hit’ songs such as ‘Electrified Teenybop!’, Stereolab have a constant air of the unpretentious. The crowd is similar in tone: the mix of generations and people enjoying the music is uniting and surprisingly moving. As Sadier draws attention to the ‘anti-war’ and ‘anti-patriarchy’ messages in their songs, Project House feels like it becomes a little pocket (albeit a bubble) of dancing, collectively, in peace (a ‘French Disko’, if you will).

Last year, when I started writing frequently for The Gryphon, a small part of me worried that taking up student journalism might affect my love for live music. Whilst that has not come to pass, I found myself beaming at Stereolab as they perfectly reminded me of what it feels like to move in a crowd, to hear old favourites and new classics. Stereolab concluded the evening at Project House with an electric, heavily requested encore. What a set. 

Post-gig, I have found myself moving between each of their albums, much in the same way as their setlist. Their sound evolves but keeps a similar humanity. Stereolab’s music is hybridic: it is an uncertain amalgamation, an experimental mix that feels richly developed and absurd yet enjoyable to listen to and relatable. They are pop, yes – inspired by artists like Françoise Hardy, but they are cinematic too. The sound of French New Wave cinema shadows their more ambient work. But, in everything they do, it is clear that Stereolab’s music is something new, or at least an original collage of influences. Co-founder Gane has said that, ‘We were trying to make what I called juxtaposition: a montage, or collage, to see how one thing influenced another’. 30 years on, does creating and performing music lessen in quality or enjoyment? For me, could reviewing gigs lessen my instinctual love for live music? It is inspiring that Stereolab confirm the opposite is true.

Words by Francesca Lynes