ust being weird isn’t enough for me anymore. I’ll admit it, it used to be. The more obnoxious, the better. Now, there needs to be a method to the madness. There needs to be something to reel all the insanity in. The novelty of hearing Mike Patton bark like a dog, and scream “FUCK!” over and over, has worn thin. Very, very, very thin. Although, to be fair, Patton’s solo album still works wonders for driving unwanted guests out of your house at the end of a long party.


Say hello to Deerhoof. They used to be one of those obnoxious bands. The kind of band I would throw on in a vain attempt to piss off my parents, who didn’t really care so long as I didn’t play anything too loud. Deerhoof’s previous four albums have been slabs of abstract guitar noise, that occasionally veered into traditional song structure, but for the most part, stayed noisy and messy as all get out. Some folks call it No Wave, and I guess that’s not too far off. They’re still playing around in the barnyard of fucked up guitars, tweaked keyboard hijinx, and “what-the-fuck?” lyrics and vocals. However, now they’ve played down the sheer weirdness for a more bouncy pop aesthetic. The results are actually weirder and more schizoid than anything they’ve done in the past, but it’s way more fun to listen to.


“Sound the Alarm” doesn’t sound like much of an alarm at all. In fact, this could pass for the start of a Bjork b-side. Until it fades into the next song, “This Magnificent Bird Will Rise” and the drums come in. Someone just dumped their garbage into your backyard, and there are some damned kids making a racket on all that shit. Singer, Satomi Matsuzaki “boops” and “bah bah bah’s!” her way over the skittering, stop start of the rest of the band. Keyboards are committing hari kari right and left.


A short stop for forty seconds of jangle and joy, “The Eyebright Bugler” is a gleeful little ditty. Matsuzaki bleats, “Bang your head to your favorite song!/ It’s very mechanical!” and then it’s all over, we’re ripping into the next song. Whoa! When did Link Wray sign on? “Punch Buggy Valves” starts off with a fantastic, twangy guitar riff ala Mr. Wray, but then dissolves into a thumping, little punk rock ditty. Matsuzaki simply repeats “beep beep! beep beep!” over some twisted carnival organs before going all Stereolab and singing sweetly over the repetitive, clanging, mess (and I mean that in the very best way) being laid down by her partners in crime. It charms me with its sheer love for making the sounds coming out of the instrument. It’s just as lovable as any Carpenters tune. It’s just as likely to crack a smile on your lemon sucking face as any ABBA dance medley.


Every song here crashes haphazardly into the next. Ideas start and end abruptly like driving through city streets, making unexpected turns down alleys before careening back onto the major streets, highways and byways. Short moments of sparkling beauty and calmness are cut short by sudden crashes and near misses. Just sit in the back and shut up. Does it really matter where you end up?


What is this bastard child of Stereolab, Sonic Youth, and the B-52’s? Where did they come from? I don’t believe any of this nonsense that these folk are from San Francisco. This kind of a celebratory noise is reserved for beings who don’t live in cities. This kind of noise comes from someplace I can’t explain, though banging on some pots and pans would probably get pretty close to the spirit of Deerhoof. This is the sound of someone making something fun. Just to make it. Because they can, dammit.