DEERHOOF - MILK MAN

A Deerhoof album is sort of like having a retarded Giga Pet on crack over for dinner. It comes out of left field and, in no time, has you laughing, screaming, shaking your ass, and looking around wondering, "What the fuck?" And Milk Man, the newest LP from this unhinged quartet, is no exception to the rule. The cover alone-- a white figure with fruit stabbed into different parts of its body-- is a total indicator of the Wonka-esque ride this album proves to be.
Right from the start, Milk Man tears into you with nightmarish pacing. You're lulled into comfort by soft, impossibly falsetto vocals, only to be ground down by a megaton of guitar crunch and drums. Layer upon layer of sound fall away into minimal bliss. Structured rhythms give way for random sound-sampling madness. The sound is ethereal, then insistent, then ethereal again, all in the span of 15 seconds. And amidst the constant ebb and flow, the band manages to dip its toes into the depths of many genres all at once. From space-opera to indie-pop, to art-rock and back, it's all deep-fried in sound experimentation and served on a melodic bun.
Speaking of "melodic", this is probably the Deerhoof album that best fits that description. Musically, it's a very honed piece of work, by a band that has obviously grown together in what they do. From the guitar plucks and blips to the drum slams and whirs, Milk Man is another body-rockin' step in their fine tradition of challenging what is and could be considered "music".