Smart people make connections between neurons that regular
folk don't. Firing off lines like Spiderman shoots
web, a smart person's brain is a more complex network
of connections. Brains that function at a higher level
get more neurons to talk to each other, meaning more
neurons understand each other, meaning, subsequently,
more neurons make you smarter than the next guy. All these
goings-ons can be confusing to the average Joe, who
will quickly become confused and discouraged by them
as mainstream music listeners often are by Deerhoof —
a band made up of people who are no doubt too smart
for their own good, and who make the most fascinating,
thinking-person's music as a result.
It'd be easy to dismiss their brilliance as chaos. But
Deerhoof's defiant, frame-less songs don't come
together by mistake; they're carefully and
meticulously composed, making them that much more
fulfilling to dissect. That is, if they'll let you.
It's not what the instruments do alone — the riff can
be simple, the beat can be plain — it's what they do
together. Classical compositions are usually simple in pieces but powerful in procession; the best don't run into the walls of
structure or habit. This is what Deerhoof do. And with
each successive album, they just keep doing it better.
Deerhoof go places and always take you with them.
Sometimes they start slow and minimal, as if they're
dragging their feet, but before long you're caught in
a whirlwind, awestruck by the fluttering sounds coming
at you from every direction. The guitar riff starts
simple, and the next thing you know you're somewhere
else. Once, the riff was one, two notes maybe; then it
morphed into a scattered string of tantalizing notes
without you even noticing. The guitar transported you
to new sonic territory where jazz drums are breaking
down and high-pitched coos are repeating something to
you again and again. Sometimes you wonder if Satomi
Matsuzaki's singing in a foreign language. Maybe it's
her Asian accent, her choppy flow or her
so-innocent-it-hurts delivery, it's hard to say, but
her singing style helps define Deerhoof as the
idiosyncratic entity they are. Still, she couldn't
do it without her mates, drummer/keyboardist Greg
Saunier and guitarists John Dieterich and Chris Cohen.
And having two guitar players, something they didn't
have until they brought Cohen on board for 2003's
Apple O', gives the listener that much more to
revel in.
On their new album, The Runners Four, Deerhoof
don't abandon the stupid-to-difficult approach they
first dropped a patent on when they formed a decade
ago. They improve on it — significantly. Their
chaotic brilliance is evident as ever, but this time
paired with more traditional rock 'n' roll guitar-playing, giving you an anchor
to hold onto. Deerhoof
have always featured hooks in their songs, but, here,
they pack more of a punch — you could stomp around to
The Runners Four more than any of their
previous seven albums. Raw, up close and a bit echo-y,
the recording itself also added a new hard-hitting
dimension to their sound. But, lovers of the
dissonance and drone, don't fret — there's still
plenty of that to get lost in.
"Twin Killers" is potentially the catchiest of the
album's 20 tracks. With a dirty '70s-style
riff that thrusts in and out as if to menace you, and
another guitar riff spiraling with threatening might, the song
features hollow, slapping beats and a chorus that
sounds like Matsuzaki awkwardly covering classic rock.
Driven by a handful of starts and stops (as many of
Deerhoof's songs are), "Vivid Cheek Love Song" swings
like an old jangly Velvet Underground cut and finds
Matsuzaki at her cutest, while "Odyssey" is a dreamy
stripped-down song of intimate, sluggish coos and
hypnotic guitar-playing. "Wrong Time Capsule" is
another rock cut, this time with a bluesy swagger in the vein of the Rolling
Stones, while "Lemon & Little
Lemon" has delicate, whistling keyboard set against
angelic speak-singing and jazzy hits to the cymbals
and hi-hat. Damaged, free-jazz playing and displaced keyboards give the all-instrumental "News
From a Bird" the album's most experimental, arrhythmic feel; closer "Rrrrrrright" is
a dark and gritty coming-to-get-you track, letting wild guitars loose to terrorize
wherever and
whomever they please.
'Cause, with Deerhoof, there are no rules. Setting
rules and restriction is like taking the easy way out
— it's the lack of them that can make things the most
complex, and, with The Runners Four, the most
exciting.
|
