Quirky as ever, the progressive rock band Deerhoof rode into the 930 Club with a thunder on Saturday. Without a word to the crowd, they picked up their instruments, confidently assembled themselves in a line at the front of the stage, and began to play. The substantial crowd of thrill-seekers that had gathered to revel in the band’s celestial aura woke up gradually-they needed to be pulled from the state of indifference most people inhabit.
The adorably fun-sized singer and bassist Satomi Matsuzaki delivered the lyrics of the first song “Super Duper Rescue Heads” with a wide-eyed hypotonic gaze out into the crowd and hand gestures that accompanied the lyrics, only heightening the child-like tone of the song. Matsuzaki’s hypnotic gaze persisted throughout the entire hard-rocking set. It calmed the crowd at apex of chaos and challenged them at the zenith of ridiculousness.
Beneath the mirage of the composition there lurked a tide of improvisation that occasionally washed over the audience. Throughout the set the band played games with each other. As they all continued to play, one guitarist Ed Rodriguez scared Matsuzaki into hiding behind an amp while the other guitarist, John Dieterish, simply walked off stage, his riffs seeming to come from nowhere.
Halfway through the set drummer Greg Saunier stood up to say a few words. Obviously feeling awkward, he began to stutter out some incomprehensible words, and with the crowd’s help he managed to thank the opening bands. His awkward and uncomfortable demeanor lasted until the very end of his speech when he made a quick joke, laughed heartily, and sat back down at his drum set. Had he put on a character for the speech? Or was the awkwardness genuine? The mystery haunted the audience.
All of the songs came from Deerhoof’s latest album “Deerhoof vs. Evil.” In it, the band explores a more electronic sound and generally sounds more composed than in previous albums. Melodic lines weave in and out of the songs, almost seeming to combat each other and occasionally morphing into hard-rocking complex chord changes. For all the arrangement of the album, the band managed to control the transmutation of the recordings into performance with a refreshing vigor. The songs took back on the older Deerhoof sound without the workings of a studio but retained their sense of composition.
The band finished by playing over a short stop-action film. By this point the crowd was transfixed and stared at the projection like a cult might stare at their figurehead. After the band had left the stage and the audience began to break up a single woman remained standing in front of the stage. The tears she tried to hold back eventually broke and streamed down her face. What about this show had affected her so? Had it reminded her of a dead lover? Or were these tears of joy? Deerhoof’s music is powerful; let us hope they continue to use this power for good.