In this blog series I’m going to analyze and critique my top 10 favorite songs of all time, in an attempt to explain what I find so special about them. “Stereo Love”, by Edward Maya and Vika Jigulina, is #10 on the list.
The song features production by Edward Maya and vocals from Vika Jigulina, both Romanian artists, and was released in 2009, becoming a minor worldwide hit between 2009 and 2011. It is the first track on the album “The Stereo Love Show”.
The main ways to contextualize Stereo Love is as either an example of the Romanian dance-pop scene (along with Alexandra Stan’s hit Mr. Saxobeat) or an early predecessor of the “tropical house” trend. Both categories make sense, but the song is not a particularly good example of either.
The Romanian dance-pop (or Popcorn) influences are obvious, however Stereo Love is just weird, and not really like anything else the genre has to offer. Said weirdness is, however, very subtle and easy to miss, and in fact the whole song’s branding is as another generic, maybe pleasant, mindless club hit.
The first thing to note about Stereo Love is the composition. The focus is sharply put on the accordion riff, and everything else feels like it’s only there to accompany it. This, however, is a great decision, as said riff is absolutely phenomenal. It doesn’t seem that way at first, but with repeated plays throughout both Europe and the United States across a long time period, the riff almost becomes a hidden leitmotif of its time. And now, in 2019, it has the added bonus of nostalgia. That simple riff can almost sound like a symbol of simpler times.
The song itself feels incredibly light — weightless even. Instead of trying to drown you in maximalism, which mainstream pop can sometimes have a tendency for, it tries to be just there, pleasant but barely existing. Such a song would have a hard time being recognized as an all time masterpiece by most people I imagine, but I’m here, and I recognize it.
The lyrics, as is standard for its genre, are irrelevant. So irrelevant that I won’t even bother looking them up, as doing so would be missing the point. The identity of both artists on the song is also irrelevant (despite Edward Maya having a few more hits in his home country), and even the title is to some degree. What the fuck is a “Stereo Love”? Here someone could make the argument that “the song is great despite all that”, but no, I’m gonna make a stronger argument: the song is great because of that.
Electro-pop tracks can often have what I would call an aesthetic of anonymity. Instead of being huge forces of personality they are often personality-less. However, that doesn’t necessarily make them bad. In fact, one can paradoxically find value in this anonymity.
I am not the first person to make this observation. The label PC Music has noticed this too, and they often take this to its logical conclusion, in songs such as Broken Flowers, Hey QT or Beautiful. However, the difference is that while PC Music plays with this anonymity, songs such as Stereo Love, Infinity 2008 or Inna’s Hot play it completely straight, maybe even unintentionally. As such, the latter category usually doesn’t get into glitch-y territory (Kiiara’s Gold being an exception).
But my interpretation of PC Music is that they’re not doing a mockery of the anonymity. In fact, I believe they celebrate it, and show its potential. And honestly speaking, I’m even tired of talking about PC Music. I mean it’s 2019, I think everybody is. But if the value of their style of music is acknowledged, why not acknowledge the value of the type of music that inspired it?
Pop anonymity sometimes shows up in the form of electro-pop that actually feels robotic, and that feeling only adding to the song, but that’s not exactly the intent of this. Instead, this song uses anonymity to occupy less space, and only leave the essential in focus. This song feels less like a song and more like a summer breeze. The whole song’s point is to build up to that transcendental accordion riff. The lyrics or vocalist mattering would only take away from it.
The weirdness I mentioned earlier amounts to how little space it occupies. I remember as a kid I didn’t really like this track, specifically because I found the whole thing to be weird, even if I couldn’t put my finger on why. But when I rediscovered it, I realized “hey, I know this riff”. “Hey, I actually really love this”.
Despite a lot of people at some point enjoying Stereo Love, not a lot of people know or care about it. And honestly, that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
