Over the years, Stereolab has become a sort of cult phenomenon. For lovers of quirky and experimental indie rock, Stereolab is a staple just as important as the one holding your papers together.

Somehow after all these years, the band has managed to stay popular, despite making music that sounds like it should be played in an elevator.

On its newest CD, Fab Four Suture, the exaggerated synthesized horn and bubble noises seem like they’re taken directly from ’60s love-rock hippie music but filtered through a modern lens.

Except the modern lens is more like a giant purple pair of sunglasses that you get from Urban Outfitters. It’s strange, kooky and somehow manages to look ridiculous.

Stereolab’s music may use experimental rhythms and time signatures, but it is in no way serious. Each poppy and light selection is noncommittal and carefree.

This, if anything, is Stereolab’s failing. All of the major songs on the record (not counting the two 4 1/2-minute, tiresome instrumental numbers) fail to create a strong melody or idea. They all seep into each other like quilted fabric.

There’s a lot of potential, but none of the songs on this record seem to achieve the sublime. Then again, staples don’t have to be innovative to be important.