Deerhunter has built a reputation for performing intense and raucous live shows. On Cryptograms and their debut (either self-titled or Turn It Up, Faggot, depending on where you bought it) they were artfully savage, encrusting everything with noise spikes and winding each melody up before unraveling them violently. Singer Bradford Cox is an extroverted madman, performing at times in sundresses and smeared in blood (real or fake?). The band’s music alternated between messy but ambient drones and splintered punk chords, sometimes piling them on top of each other. Naturally, they have a rabid following but they’re not really fit for mass consumption despite the fact that the band specialized in pop songs—just too prickly and sour to eat like candy. Things might change with Microcastle.
Their third full-length was first leaked online some time ago and has been available on iTunes since early August, but now the album is available in stores. Packaged with Microcastle is a bonus disc called Weird Era Cont.—it’s difficult to tell if it’s a separate album, the second half of a double LP or just a collection of leftovers tied up in a bow for fans. But no matter how you look at it, both discs are among the most essential releases you’ll find this year. Deerhunter always seemed the sort of act that may very well be a religious experience, but still the kind you’d skip most Sundays because football is less brutal. But now they’re a huggable one; no less effusive and eccentric, mind you, but even at their roughest, this is penetrating and gorgeous stuff.
We still see Deerhunter as they are in their “ambient punk” coat of arms, but with a professionalism only touched on by earlier releases: mixing the nervy rockers with smoothly reverberating soundscapes. The intro track, “Cover Me (Slowly),” segues into “Agorophobia,” one of many album highlights, featuring guitarist Lockett Pundt taking over on vocals, cooing, “Cover me…come for me…comfort me…” “Never Stops” merges insouciance with guitar sirens and a plucking rhythm, coiling around and around without ever becoming too taut. “Nothing Ever Happened” is a fuzzy garage rock masterwork, replete with a sunny and exciting melody ready to pounce (a nice contrast to the wasted day lyrics: “I never saw it coming/Waiting for something, for nothing”).
As for the moodier side of the band, there’s an extended melancholic non-starter song suite that ends the first half from the title cut through “Activa.” It’s a sparse, harmonious series of tracks that float by like a pristine snowfall, and at about nine-and-a-half minutes, it refuses to drag out too long. It’s like a pothead who wants to try and do something but can’t get off the couch, beginning with “All I see, all I see” and setting up “I might slip/I might do/I might” before ending up at “Wasted our lives/We wasted our time” and the repetition of “I tried, I tried.” And after the second side’s punchier numbers end, we return to the hazy winter reflection. Closer “Twilight at Carbon Lake,” begins a hypnotic dream, waltzing over calm waters and the gentlest of reversed sound loops (there’s even a dash of doo wop here), but takes an abrupt left turn during the last minute-and-a-half and sizzles to a close with exploding cymbal crashes and waves of impenetrable distorted guitar snowcaps.
Surprisingly, familiarity doesn’t hurt them a bit. “Little Kids” comes on like Velvet’s “What Goes On” given a gentle surf rock swing and the chorus is a reverb-heavy dose of the building harmony heard on Scott Weiland’s “Mockingbird Girl.” The ode to slackerdom, “Nothing Ever Happened,” shares both a name and an aesthetic with Stephen Malkmus, even if the second half’s glittering finger-tap guitar strays far from Pavement. “These Hands” has the warped-tape shoegaze sound of My Bloody Valentine; in fact, Kevin Shields' influence is seen on several songs. And most of the more sprightly and angular numbers would seem like nothing more than Pixies rock re-hashes (to say nothing for the Breeders) if they weren’t so captivating by the sixth or seventh note. Cox has never been close-lipped about listing his influences, but he borrows ideas, not whole tunes, and the band makes them defiantly their own.
As far as Weird Era is concerned, it’s less album-y than Microcastle, but it’s not lacking in great songs. “Operation” swings back and forth from what could only be described as frantic shoegaze dance music to a gothic surf drone. “Dot Gain” has shimmering guitar and vocal lines (Pundt again) laid across unpredictable and hectic percussion. “Vox Celeste” is more Kevin Shields adoration and “Vox Humana”’s opening drums are straight off the intro to “Be My Baby” (the rest of the tune is 60s girl group pop-oriented, as well). “Focus Group” is immediately striking even as the storm gathers, and deserving of single status eventually. Even an instrumental like “Cicadas,” which would normally have been fodder for a 7” B-side, has a charming melt-in-your-bed quality that warrants repeat listens.
Microcastle might be a target for those looking to tear down the group. There’s no doubt that the band’s diverse sound still has the aesthetic of the indie rock cliché—heavy doses of reverb, marble-mouthed droning, allergic reaction to clean pop hooks, all the fuzz a guitar and bass can give you, and so on. And Cox prescribes to a lyrical style that is neither overtly emotional or descriptive; he could be singing about nothing or everything and all in between. But there’s a difference in being the same and being unoriginal. Deerhunter mingles their influences in a way that is inherently their own—better or worse has no bearing on their musical diffusion. Would you refuse to lend someone your car for fear that they would drive it better than you?
While I’m sure that some may mourn the more unpredictable and distancing elements of Deerhunter, I seriously doubt that Microcastle will alienate the fan base. Should they be punished for tapping into a more accessible sound and then delivering their finest and most accomplished work to date? Who would scoff at beefier hooks and greatly matured songcraft? It’s unlikely that too many radio stations are going to spoil them, but they couldn’t be any catchier now unless they completely polished away their identity. And with a wider scope and a more dramatic focus, they can move away from that early-promise label. Their first two LPs had more than a fair share of great moments, but were also bewildering and distracted. Most of the tracks were inherently pop songs, but Deerhunter didn’t seem to know what kind of pop songs they wanted to make. But with Microcastle, they’ve figured out how to keep things briefer and tenser while remaining loose and adventurous. They’re not a promising act to watch for; they’ve fulfilled what I hoped from them. Now they’re just a great band.
"Microcastle/Weird Era Cont." is on sale October 28, 2008 from 4AD.
