In Amoeba the other day, I experienced a peculiar kind of amnesia that sets in only when I'm in a warehouse full of records.
Regretting that I hadn’t made some sort of a list, my thoughts were all fog and I couldn’t recall a single record I wanted, even after a default alphabetical walk-through (during which I usually just idly pick up and look at ones that I already own) – but then the album cover for Deerhunter's Cryptograms shot like a light through it, straight into my brain-o-sphere, and tadaaaaa, I was in the D section with a reason. But in retrospect, this reason has mostly to do with the steady stream of press that has glamorized the band as a troupe of enigmatic and quirky experimental-noise new-wave enthusiasts (and even "revivalists"). I might add that the album cover's mesmerizing op art symbolism, an evocative extension of the record's title, had something to do with my purchase as well. Unaware of all of this flowing through my pre-consciousness, I was just really excited to hear something smart and new and so I bought it and listened to it, but I was rather surprised - dismayed really - that it didn't do much for me except make me feel even more desensitized to what is currently considered "good" music. As a listener, I often feel so numb to bands like Deerhunter that my opinion of them just starts to disintegrate as soon as I begin to verbalize it, but in an effort to combat my deteriorating critic-power, I thought I’d push on through the album's largely anesthetizing effect in order to explain why I found it disappointing, and why you might, too.
By now, it's safe to say that with the proliferation of avenues for internet music buzz, any band can get some attention for a while as long as they play enough shows and play them well and/or and possess a shred of personality. And if your album gets a good review on Pitchfork like Deerhunter's did, the hype can quickly become a distortional magic that glows around the band and everything they do, say, eat, and even shit (yes, it's true, if you\'re curious, check out Deerhunter's "poop blog"). And in this case, it seems like the hype is the real reason I ended up buying the record. As I said, it was initially disappointing. After a handful of subsequently half-hearted tries at enjoying it as I was apparently supposed to, I gave Cryptograms a final, attentive go-through and I've since concluded that, although it represents a consistent attempt to do something new and genuine, it generally falls short of that feat.
Regarding the band’s mystique, I’d like to make a point: loads of reverb and digital loopage are not the essence of enigma or mystery; they might intensify it, but any kind of defining quality in music is really, when it comes down to it, found in the singular character of the song writing itself. This album is heavily reliant on a funny combination of things that have already been done (for starters, the ambient texture of Eno and the drone of Joy Division). Sure, the production is solid and the album is texturally cohesive (even with it's split structure, it’s general progression from impressions into “songs”), and its density and sonic diversity are interesting, but these qualities end up manifesting themselves as weaknesses. The stretches of layered noise often feel ornamental and they mask the album’s strengths, leaving you wondering where the real songs were. To be sure, there are a couple, namely "St. Hazel," "Cryptograms," and "Strange Lights," but unfortunately, the only real meat of the album is "Heatherwood," Cryptograms’ best but oddly delayed moment. “When one life is over, a new one begins, was not seen again, was not seen again,” chants singer Bradford Cox, leaving us with something of a grand testament to the staying power of memory in the face of his disjointed life. The lyrics in this song are simple and open enough to ground me and the instrumentals are sparse enough to hold them in place. This is really the only true moment that I enjoyed on the album, but for the most part, Deerhunter seem to have let their equipment get in the way of putting out a release with any staying power.
"Cryptograms" is on sale January 29, 2007 from Kranky Records.
