Don’t fall for the goofball innocence and giddy nursery-rhyme silliness on the surface: Deerhoof is a dangerous band. Get lost for too long in the gauzy synth splendor that opens “Criminals of the Dream” and the fuzzed-out, swaggering bassline that comes careening in will knock you right out of your favorite daydream. Dawdle in the lo-fi folk lullaby of “Patrasche Come Back” – put your heartstrings on notice for its yearning recorder melody – and you’ll never see the no-wave funk of “Debut” coming. For a band that has made a career of spooking the hell out of you with their mind-askew melodic sense, vacuum-sealed rhythm section, and genre-hopping adventurism, Deerhoof’s latest, The Magic, is a portrait of four artists confidently smashing through walls into a brighter (and wackier) future.
Attempts to paint Deerhoof into any musical corners are doomed to end in a splattered mess of confusion. Try that kind of funny business on The Magic and you’re looking at a seriously sore brain by the end of the first track, “The Devil and His Anarchic Surrealist Retinue,” where country shuffle drums bounce down the road as the twin guitars of Ed Rodriguez and John Dietrich duke it out above. One stabs out with knotted runs up the fretboard, the other warbles out a lonesome sci-fi slide melody before crashing together to dump us into a smooth chorus full of sighing strums and a rhythm change that forces your head from banging to nodding in an instant. Deerhoof’s musical agility is sharper than ever, and keeping up with their constantly shifting sensibilities can feel like a damn-near athletic endeavor. Thankfully, their exceptional talent can, and does smooth over any potentially jerky transition: hearing drummer Greg Saunier drop out of the lumbering bass and hi-hat groove in the bridge of “Criminals of the Dream” into the bombastic rock clatter of the chorus is an absolute treat, time after time.
Despite the vocal presence of the other three members of this album, vocalist/bassist Satomi Matsuzaki remains Deerhoof’s secret/not-so-secret weapon. On the upbeat rockers, like lost 80s montage soundtrack “Acceptance Speech”, her playful croon elevates the tracks into complete ear-worm anthems, while her repetitive rhythmic incantations on freakouts like “Nurse Me” add a startlingly catchy element to a potentially disorienting mix. Even when confronting existential crises on “Life is Suffering”, lyrics like “Learning, searching in the night/What is Right?” alongside blunt observations (“Life is suffering, man”) keep the tone light; the depths of despair aren’t too deep for a wink and a smile. Saunier continues his reign as indie rock’s funkiest drummer, carving grooves so deep on “Debut” that you’d swear you’re about to fall out the other side of the Earth. The guitar work is similarly superb across the album: from the ping-ponging palm-muted slithers on “Model Behavior” to the brash classic rock riffing on “Learning to Apologize Effectively”, Rodriguez and Dietrich have achieved a truly mystical mind-meld of sorts, finishing each other’s phrases with an envy-inducing sixth sense.
Weaving these talents into yet another heart-warming, head-spinning sonic journey, the 20+ year juggernaut that is Deerhoof shows no signs of wear or lack of enthusiasm on The Magic. Rather, over the course of 15 deliciously colorful tracks, the sense that they are just now reaching the peak of their prowess is inescapable. The Magic knows you can dream, and dares you to at every step.
