Deerhoof
Breakup Song

Deerhoof. A name that generates unpredictability and overflowing originality. You pop one of their albums into the player and what you see are crazy colors, little voices, fields, dancing flowers, farting animals. An imagery that can be heavenly or hellish, with every change of note. Their undeniable ability to write simple and non-linear songs, very noisy, often cacophonous and childish.

The beauty was there, in those senseless and unreadable gashes. It was all in the musical abrasions and Satomi's unbalanced voice, often compared (perhaps wrongly) to Kazu Makino of Blonde Redhead, not only for the Japanese origin but also for their "particular" tones, which immediately stand out. But while Kazu Makino, on the latest albums by her Blonde Redhead (respectively "Misery Is A Butterfly," "23," and "Penny Sparkle"), has matured her voice, making it malleable, tremendously sexy and seductive, able to raise endorphins or, on the contrary, lull with grace, Satomi has remained firm in her unbalanced interpretation, ever since that distant 1997, the year the extraordinary "The Man, The King, The Girl," the Deerhoof manifesto and masterpiece of the absurd, was released.

And now, the year 2012. After continuously releasing albums at a decidedly high pace, Deerhoof have returned with "Breakup Songs," an album that, already from the first listen, disconcerts.

But it doesn't disconcert like "Milkman," or "Apple O'" can disconcert: it disconcerts for its very forced attempt to normalize the group into an "Arty" song form, yet also, paradoxically, banal. Yes, with Deerhoof, the embrace of normality becomes even more shocking than cacophony.
"Breakup Songs" is still an album rich with ideas, capable of very interesting moments, yet it is as long as a spit (only 29 minutes) and doesn't surprise, doesn't bite, doesn't even annoy. It brushes against the listener, embraces them, then abandons them, just as an EP might.

It's true, Deerhoof have aged and lost that anarchic vein that has always distinguished them since the first work: actually, no, it's still present, but it is gradually crumbling into a caricature of itself, without allowing the new offerings to leave anything memorable. And so everything unfolds in eleven art-pop songs that could be the debut album of any hipster shooting-star group. 

And so I can sincerely say that "Breakup Songs," despite the pleasantness, is the first major misstep by the band. Avoiding being fatalistic (which I hate), like "Deerhoof are dead! Long live Deerhoof!" the next test will give us the truth.

Postponed to September.