As someone regularly headphones-deep in the critical music world, it’s easy to lose sight of how honestly fun music can be. You obsess over the ins and outs of an album: how visceral its songwriting might be, how raw its tones are, how perfectly refined its production is, how relatable an album’s struggles are and so on. In all of this, pure joy seems bogged down by process.
Deerhoof seemed to take issue with this. In fact, La Isla Bonita, their latest record, is a glorious mess determined to make a party of a chaotic world. A playful little gem in the music critic’s worn pan, La Isla Bonita sees the San Francisco punks joyously dance around sporadic instrumentals and festive phrase turnings (if you love “freedom of speech,” just wait until you try “speech of freedom!”).
Nothing derails their fun, either. Not even the burning struggle of the Ramones-inspired “Exit Only.” Even with “too many choice to order breakfast,” Deerhoof still sounds excited to be at that breakfast table. Throughout La Isla Bonita, they venerate the “girls who play the bass guitar” with broken melody and dissonant guitar creaks (“Paradise Girls”), and pop “Tiny Bubbles” at an islander’s high-noon showdown while turning the concept of “Doom” into a beachside shuffle.
On their trip to La Isla Bonita, Deerhoof spikes their album for an extra kick; new sounds mold into their eccentric brand of rock to spice up the already schizoid punk rock. Whether it’s the pulsating waltz of “Big House Waltz” that drones through the back half in what might be the album’s most ironically melodic moments, or the grinding woodblocks of “Tiny Bubbles,” La Isla Bonita erupts with a party of unconventional sounds for already less-than-conventional songs.
Interestingly enough, Deerhoof sends off their latest record with a more conventional noise rock outro; the droning feedback of “Oh Bummer,” merged with singer Satomi Matsuzaki’s exuberant cries, sends off La Isla Bonita’s bubbling moments with a relatively humble finale.
Yet, that tide of noise rock fading into the surrounding musical seas still feels as uplifting as La Isla Bonita’s more animated moments. Its Edge-gone-awry guitars and forceful grooves still strike the listener as just as excited as the album’s upbeat introduction, and declare that Deerhoof is a band that, even in its most serious moments, still knows how to sneak in some pure, lighthearted fun.
Rating: B+
