Chris DeLine

It used to be that Deerhoof made little to no sense to the average listener and lived within the outskirts of musicianship. But with a sly shift towards the sound developed for Friend Opportunity, the recently dubbed trio (resulting from Chris Cohen’s departure) has now embraced a sound that was once never imagined when listening to the band, pop. But with one original member remaining and a steadily growing listenership it would be hard to expect another Milk Man, wouldn’t it?

Friend Opportunity is a tightly wound record which opens with two of the most rock-based tracks the band has produced in recent memory, “The Perfect Me” and “+81.” Both show exactly what longstanding Deerhoof fans have come to hate about the band, which is expectedly what new fans are basing their praise on – they are accessible. After a few times through these two tracks it becomes apparent that it’s not an entirely impossible inevitability to hear Deerhoof on the radio amongst your Shins, your Ryan Adams’ and your Walkmen (if you’re not already hearing such a line-up). Not to say that this is a bad thing, nor is it a statement questioning the bands motives, but it is a shift towards something different, and in the minds of diehard listeners – something different may not equate something good.

“Believe E.S.P” is what reels its audience back into the reality of the situation however, as after the first two songs it may be hard to remember that Deerhoof is still spinning in your jam box. The song stands as something different from both the tracks before and after it; its unbalanced rhythm paces the oddly funky guitar chops until the song unwraps itself revealing its electronic insides. But before “Believe” can be absorbed the band fiercely rolls through a few more tracks, all embellishing the character which the band has become, before greeting listeners with “Cast Off the Crown.” Its rapid introduction teases an art-rock ultimatum before drummer Greg Saunier gently asks “Oh lover, oh lover, where is the thunder?” The album’s twists are tough to detect but after the majority of the album has been played out, Satomi Matsuzaki takes the band to a place where many of its fans first fell in love.

“Kidz are so Small” starts the “This is What We Expected From Deerhoof” portion of the record, with some of the album’s only comprehensible, though misunderstood, lyrics “If I were man and you were dog I’d throw a stick for you.” With hollow electro-harpsichord mixed with a varied pace of inconsistent percussions all inevitably reducing the lyrics to “Oh-oh oh oh oh-oh oh oh oh, bodeto tshetpu bodeto tshetpu, badata patta batada pappa;” the group almost satirizes itself with such Deerhoof-like aggregation of sound.

It’s the final track though that possibly explains the most about the band and its direction. Given the choice as to how Friend Opportunity should end, doesn’t it seem somewhat fitting to subject the listener to a nearly twelve minute sit through of random intertwining progressions and lulls? Is “Look Away” the best representation of the album? No. Is “Look Away” the best way to cap off an otherwise listenable set of songs? Probably not. But what it is is a sensible release from an otherwise uncharacteristic set of music, and one so that fully clarifies that Deerhoof is still in fact Deerhoof.

[This post was first published by Culture Bully.]