Stereolab is arguably one of the most remarkable bands of all time. Throughout the ‘90s and early ‘00s, they constantly redefined the indie sphere, blending early post-rock with ‘70s motorik rhythms, ‘60s lounge instrumentation and ear-catching melodies. These aspects of their sound were wrapped up in a neat little bow in 1996’s “Cybele’s Reverie.”

Sung entirely in French, the song looks back on childhood through the lens of being in that mental age and slowly growing up. Lætitia Sadier laments the possibility of having done everything she set out to do in life:

“What to do when one has done everything /

Read everything, drunk everything, eaten everything?”

During childhood, I remember I had this idea that my life as I had known it would come to a halt once I graduated high school because I could not fathom what it would look like beyond that point. Everything felt more vibrant as a kid, and there was always this feeling of curiosity and glee that I know I will rarely experience again. The song reads like a eulogy for childlike wonder. 

While the tune is quite bittersweet, the instrumentation is quite joyful, with its prominent string section and increasingly triumphant crescendos. Sadier’s vocals are also superb against the swift chamber pop backdrop. The song’s structure gives me the impression that it is spinning into itself with each crescendo, like the cyclone shape from the cover of Emperor Tomato Ketchup. 

“Cybele’s Reverie” is easily one of my favorite Stereolab songs. Every sound is so precise, and it has one of the most affecting vocal performances I’ve had the pleasure of hearing. Stereolab continues to live on as an indie rock titan in part through their endless creativity on songs like this.