DEERHOOF - Deerhoof vs. Evil

Sometimes, it's just not honest to play the role of the sober, objective reviewer. For as much as drooling fandom can be a disservice to a reader looking for a fair indicator of something new to listen to, feigning a neutral position often gets in the way of displaying the true emotion certain music can spark within us. So it is with the following disclaimer that I review the new album by this San Francisco quartet: I LOVE Deerhoof. I'm talking like 'how peanut butter loves chocolate' love: entirely and fully immersed in my candy-coated dedication.

Why the love? Read the title, man: they fight EVIL. They're a noble band.

The "evil" that Deerhoof are fighting this time around is the same villain they've successfully pit themselves against their whole career: predictability. No matter how each has differed in approach, every Deerhoof album (and indeed each individual tune) strives to be one step ahead of its listener. While a little more reliant on electronic beats and blurbs than before, Deerhoof vs. Evil hods true to that aim. 

As always, what makes this relentless bobbing and weaving so compelling (rather than just exhausting) comes down to two things. Firstly, this quirky group always manages to be extremely catchy, albeit in unorthodox ways. Satomi's childlike chirp of a voice isn't for everybody, but its simplicity and direct approach to melody acts as a life raft amongst the ever-shifting backdrop of their music. No matter the maelstrom, she's there keeping things steady. (And if any singer is likely to have you walking down the street humming lines like "People need a gorilla" to yourself, it's her). 

Secondly, it really helps Deerhoof's cause that like other iconoclastic art-rockers such as Frank Zappa, they can really play their instruments. This isn't just bratty punk destruction of songcraft—it's a gleeful picking at conventional structures by a group of musicians who have the chops to do it. So just when you feel the band may be a little too willful in their self-sabotage of form, moments like the gorgeously fluttering Spanish guitar of "No One Asked To Dance" or the rollercoaster shifts of "Behold a Marvel in the Darkness" carry a confidence that reminds you that their is indeed a firm, experienced hand on the wheel.

If Deerhoof vs. Evil is a creative shade below past high-water marks like 2007's Friend Opportunity or the wild 20-song ride of 2005's The Runners Four, it is also one of the more direct and pleasing albums that they've made. That's a relative statement—their meat-and-potatoes is most other bands' haute fusion cuisine—but with über-pop candy like "Super Rescue Heads!" and the tight groove of "Secret Mobilization" leading the charge, now just might be the time for a few curious onlookers to join Deerhoof's gallant fight.