Knock Knock #51

In two weeks, Deerhoof headlines The Ruins, part of a run of live shows that are closing out the season. If you’re unfamiliar with the band, a quick description can prove challenging. Deerhoof feels spiritually rooted in the wider social soup of mid-late ‘90s / early ‘00s punk and indie music, but they extend themselves way beyond the established boundaries of those genres. They’re noisy as all hell, but lack the brutal antagonisms or power postures that noise music is known for. Instead, they consistently channel the soothing singalongs of lullabies and childlike flights of fancy, but situate this unexpected gentle-ness in a field of expertly deployed heaviness and, at times, violence. They’re ornate and technical without being proggy, they skronk without sneering, and they rock harder than almost any other group on the planet.

They’ve also been operating for over 25 years, never veering from their core mission while brilliantly developing their strangest and most exciting qualities. In the early 2000s, word of their shows traveled like wildfire. Everyone wanted to see the weird, freewheeling rock group that blew back your hair with ferocious little ditties sung by a tiny Japanese woman backed by a monster drum who played hunched over his kit (in an ergonomic nightmare) on a flipped milkcrate instead of a drum stool.

As their years of touring stretched out and their catalog built up, Deerhoof became an institution. They’re a rare band you can believe in, a group who is singularly devoted to being themselves, working with at times bizarre technical constraints because they like it that way, and playing music so strange and unique it sounds genuinely unlike anything else. Here are five of our favorite songs.

 

This Magnificent Bird Will Rise” from Reveille


“The trumpet scatters its awful sound / Over the graves of all lands / Summoning all before the throne” intones singer Satomi Matsuzaki, in an unaccompanied moment of quiet before drummer Greg Saunier explodes through the speaker with a deluge of percussion. It’s half Led Zeppelin “Good Times Bad Times,” half Rashied Ali on “Interstellar Space.” A droney synth establishes a foundation before thick slicing guitar chords fill up the space, hinting at the cosmic liftoff of the best jazz fusion. But Deerhoof keeps you on your toes, abruptly dropping into another skeletal section with a simple “do-do-do-doooo” vocal and a metronome plinking away in the background. All this before the recorder melody comes in.

In less than a minute, they’ve given you the grand tour of everything that makes them great, and then they raise the stakes. The back half of the song hits one leftfield singalong after another, suggesting that the apocalyptic day of reckoning from earlier is actually a moment of celebration and liberation. Joyfulness is the key thread that winds through their entire discography, and “This Magnificent Bird Will Rise” is a blast of undiluted euphoria.


Milk Man” from Milk Man


Although Reveille wasn’t Deerhoof’s first album, it was the wave-making introduction for a whole new batch of fans. It also kicked off a run of exemplary LPs, including Apple OGreen Cosmos and The Runners Four. Right in the middle of that set sits Milk Man. With its unsettling cover, absolutely bombastic rock-outs and hummable hooks, this one felt like a major level-up at the time of its release and remains a fan favorite to this day. Deerhoof is a band well known for their obsessive studio methodologies, and the Tape Op interview on the making of Milk Man remains one of the most fascinating explorations of bespoke, DIY art practice ever chronicled. Don’t believe us? Here’s a taste of their approach to recording guitars: “I'm not a very good guitar player, and I can't keep perfect pressure, and we wanted each note of every arpeggio to be perfect and ringing, so we recorded every chord separately.”

Back to the song: “Milk Man” kicks off with a sprightly, woody melody that feels cribbed from a Thin Lizzy b-side before landing in one of the heaviest, sickest drops this side of Sleep’s “Dragonaut.” It’s just so powerful, with the kind of towering, thundering sound bands pay top dollar in hopes of capturing. That Deerhoof pulled it off in their attic with a few mics - “one was hanging from an easel, and one was sitting on an exercise machine” - is the definition of badass.

 

Odyssey” from The Runners Four


This tender, not-quite-interlude moment of warbling perfection from Deerhoof’s definitive double album showcases guitarist Chris Cohen on vocal duties with minimal accompaniment. At that point, almost a decade into the band’s tenure, the group found themselves in a moment they couldn’t have fully anticipated. They were headliners with Kill Rock Stars, one of the best indie labels at that time, backing them, and were receiving significant attention in the underground press. This gave them flexibility, but it also came with pressure. In their completely engrossing, must-listen Life of the Record interview, they recall “strained communication” with KRS and feeling perceived as “not commercially viable” while trying to make “timeless” music.

Looking at it in this light, “Odyssey” reads like a quivering ode to his bandmates at an uncertain moment. “Pirates on an odyssey” he starts off. “Ask our captain what will be, what will be / when winter’s gone / we might be wrong.” The anxieties and fretting are assuaged by the simple joys of friendship, or even just camaraderie. “My companions focus me / On the bright real sun.” The verse ends with one of those lines that hits you right in the heart, or gut. “You're my reason / to go.”


Wrong Time Capsule” from The Runners Four


This is the song that directly follows “Odyssey,” which feels like a cheat in a list like this, but it’s so good, and is expertly sequenced. Going from the tenderness of the previous track, “Wrong Time Capsule” feels like Deerhoof jamming on Nirvana’s “Drain You” while adding tons of their own spice in the mix. A rollicking good time, the thunky bass line and blown out guitar riffage have a taste of proper ‘70s classic rock, with Satomi singing about getting “caught in the machine.” The Runners Four is Deerhoof’s White Album, completely packed with gems. But if you want to get a sense of their range, cueing up “Odyssey” into “Wrong Time Capsule” shows how limber and boundlessly creative they are.

 

And the Moon Laughs” from Miracle-Level


Deerhoof’s most recent album, Miracle-Level, is their 19th to date and marks the first time they’ve ever produced, recorded, and mixed an album entirely in a professional studio. It’s a testament to their playing and group cohesion that Miracle-Level sounds as good as it does. And it’s also a testament to their production sensibilities and chops that it sounds… like a Deerhoof record. Across the album, there isn’t a game-changing transformative reveal so much as the addition of an airy, live atmosphere. These recordings breathe beautifully.

“And the Moon Laughs” is as full-throttle and white knuckle as anything in their catalog. This track sees Deerhoof pulling off a punk rager and a breezy pop song all at once, and the communal energy is infectious. The album also marks the first time Satomi sings entirely in her native Japanese, marking a subtle but distinct shift in dynamics and vibe. Across Miracle-Level, Deerhoof sound completely settled into their sound, tossing off signature gestures and wild asides with a mastery that only comes with years of unerring dedication.

Sep 12, 2024