Review: Deerhoof at The Grey Eagle
Attempting to describe Deerhoof’s music would be doing it an injustice. The wild team effort and outright silliness woven into wild punk-experimental noise rock can’t be enclosed into any one genre or label — even that word salad I just barfed up doesn’t fully communicate the splendor that the San Francisco-based band exudes.
Asheville was lucky enough to be graced with the presence of this legendary group in the close quarters of our beloved Grey Eagle on Sept. 13. When I arrived at the venue that Wednesday night, it looked like any other weekday show. People were slinking around the smoking deck, and there was enough room on the floor to put your arms out and spin around comfortably (a true feat at the GE). As the night wore on, after an invigorating opening performance from Flynt Flossy and the Turquoise Jeep crew, the crowd began to file in, making the space resemble a Friday night gig. Luckily enough, I was able to snag a spot right against the stage, so, as the band set up, they got to see me staring at them like they were gods amongst mortals.
As they launched into “Paradise Girls,” off their 2014 album, La Isla Bonita, I began to realize that my stare was not unjustified. Drummer Greg Saunier was a force to be reckoned with — so much so that, after just one song, he got up, crouched to the height of lead singer Satomi Matsuzaki’s microphone, and, between his heavy breathing, pointed to his drum set, announcing that we were lucky enough to be there to witness the first time he ever broke through a cymbal with one of his drumsticks, and held up the brass plate, the stick still lodged in a crack.
As the evening progressed, the cohesion and expertise shared between all the band members became increasingly obvious — and increasingly impressive. John Dieterich’s guitar skills were complemented by his thrashing headbanging, heightened by his hair that was very worthy of envy. Matsuzaki let the audience know early on that it was lead guitarist Ed Rodríguez’s birthday the following day, inciting a “happy birthday” call and response facilitated by Matsuzaki herself.
The quintet played furiously through the night, the cavern of sound filling with beautifully bizarre lyrics in English as well as Japanese, Matsuzaki’s native language. In turn, the audience was captivated and practically hypnotized by the deconstruction of music that’s become such a signature of Deerhoof. The set finished up with “Black Pitch,” the ending extended into an explosion of sound, as if the whole band was suddenly on another planet that the crowd was fortunate to tag along to. As the rest of the group finished up their sporadic sound, Saunier continued playing, forcing sonic waves from the drums that I didn’t think were possible. Once he snapped back into reality, the band gave a bow, waving goodnight to an audience clearly begging for more.
But alas, that was all we got for the night. Not that the set was in any way incomplete, but there was no way you could see a performance that magical and not be foaming at the mouth for more. I stepped out into the night air, bumping into fellow giddy fans quite literally freaking out, having just witnessed something far beyond our earthling comprehension.
As my brain reassembled itself, I managed to scrape together two thoughts: There’s no way the members of Deerhoof are human — their collective power is way too incredible — and there’s no way in hell I’m missing them any time they play anywhere near Asheville.
(Photo by Mike Bridavsky)
