DEERHOOF - Noble And GodlikeIn Ruin TAPE

Deerhoof long ago established themselves as one of the greatest rock groups on the planet—anyone who thinks that's an exaggeration hasn't spent enough time listening to Deerhoof—the insanely inventive quartet treats each new album as an opportunity for creative rebirth. And yet, somehow, they're also profoundly reliable, a strange but true description for a band so creatively restless. You never know what a new Deerhoof album will sound like, except that it will always sound like Deerhoof. The band is defined by such paradoxes, as "Noble and Godlike in Ruin" reaffirms. Their latest album is either a portrait of a world descending into monstrous hatred, dehumanization, and dollar signs, or a haunting self-portrait of the band as monsters: an intelligent, sensitive, hybrid being that sings tirelessly of love but grows increasingly alienated from that world. The music is joyful and foreboding, cybernetic and deeply human, all at once. Strings reminiscent of avant-garde chamber music and classic horror movie soundtracks collide with guitar and bass lines. The drums are sometimes filtered and sound almost electronic, but no computer could generate such a funky and dynamic rhythm, where every tiny variation from one snare hit to the next conveys worlds of possibility. At the forefront is the inimitable alto voice of Satomi Matsuzaki. A voice of loneliness whose simple calm seems strangely outside the band's maelstrom, to which she herself contributes with her jagged, precise bass lines. As a first-generation immigrant in the US, she has never attempted to hide her Japanese accent or karaoke-esque delivery. On "Noble and Godlike in Ruin," this comes across alternately as an expression of loneliness and a cool provocation against systems of oppression and control. "Kindness is all I needed from you," she sings on the epic album closer, "Immigrant Songs." "But you think we're in your house." Not long after, the song explodes, its tightly wound art-pop giving way to several minutes of wailing noise. While the subject matter may be grim—how could it be otherwise—the songs carry a defiant optimism in their refusal to bow to convention or received wisdom. There's that famous Dylan Thomas line about raging against the dying of the light: "Noble and godlike in ruin" feels a little like that. The world may be ending, but Deerhoof are going down with a bang.