The low down on Deerhoof
Deerhoof’s music goes way, way out there.
With lead singer Satomi Matsuzaki’s child-like voice cooing lyics like “choo choo choo choo / beep beep,” over stop-start guitar work interlaced with horns and sonic keyboards, their experimental nature cannot be denied.
The California-based outfit will perform in Athens tomorrow for the first time since last summer. The band released its eighth album, “Friend Opportunity,” in January.
Guitarist John Dieterich, a member of Deerhoof since 2000, took time from their current tour to answer questions by e-mail.
DEERHOOF
Playing with Bus Driver and Harlem Shakes
When: 9 p.m. Wednesday
Where: 40 Watt Club
Cost: $10/advance
Q: How’s the tour so far? Any comical mishaps or instances of particular joy?
A: I don’t know if it qualifies as comical, but all of my equipment (and Greg’s as well) is in a constant state of semi-destroyed-ness. I have grown accustomed to being in panic mode most of the time. Is that funny?
Q: How was Athens Popfest last year? Are you coming back this summer?
A: Oh, it was great. That was a real shocker, so many people came out, and people were so amped up from the rest of the shows and just in a great mood from the overflowing music that was happening. We are not coming back to Athens Popfest this summer, though we will be there at the 40 Watt Club on Feb. 21, though.
Q: Several of the songs on your new CD are very percussion-driven. Would it be weird to see someone pumping his or her fist to them, Springsteen-style?
A: More to the point, would Springsteen think it was weird?
Q: What’s your favorite song to pump your fist to?
A: I don’t really pump my fist, to be honest. I do like to watch people pump their fists, though. I like watching Coral (Busdriver’s DJ) pump his fist. He’s so happy and positive. It doesn’t seem like he wants you to join his army. He just wants you to jam with him.
Q: I know that you guys like The Who. Did you catch them on their 2006 tour? If not, why not, and if so — how was it?
A: When all my friends were listening to The Who, I was just discovering John McLaughlin and the Jesus Lizard and I managed to miss out on that. I was trying to find a music that was loud and used guitars but that didn’t have as much of a blues surface to it, that took inspiration from somewhere else. I grew up surrounded by the Allman Brothers and Steve Miller Band and stuff like that, and I was desperately searching for something that proved that you could make a new language using all of the same tools and your imagination. Duane Denison from the Jesus Lizard was a really important one for me, because I went to see them not knowing their music at all, and he pretty much shattered everything that up until that moment the “good” guitar player was supposed to be. He was not relaxed at all, was just totally stiff, played in this really perfect but incredibly scary way. The solos were not these moments where everybody kicked back and had a good time. Same thing with McLaughlin. Even if the solo was completely improvised, it came off like a bolt of energy, and you just had to hold on for dear life. His rhythmic sense was so sophisticated, yet there was this incredibly antsy feeling to it, like he doesn’t have enough time for all of the ideas he has so he has to shove as many in as he can in the time he has. On many of the Miles Davis recordings he plays on, he’s so ahead of the beat when he improvises, and Miles is so behind the beat, and it creates so much tension in the music. That reminds me of another recent influence on me, which is these old-school organ players that you can see in the movie theaters in the Oakland. There’s one near my house and on weekends they have live organists come in and play for a half an hour or so before the show, and it’s a similar feeling, because they are playing these songs and improvising with the themes and at the same time have to be preparing for all of the changes to the sound that they have to make for the next section, so they often sound rushed, and I think it’s such a cool sound. It takes what could otherwise be quite bland and turns it into this experience where you’re hanging on every note.
Q: I read that your last record, “The Runners Four”, was meant to be a “wholesale rewrite of the rock and roll dictionary.” After a project like that, what was there to do for “Friend Opportunity.” Did you approach it with any solid concepts?
A: I just think we attempt to make every album at the very least a rewrite of our own musical dictionary, where we try to delve deeper and find something new within ourselves to express. The funny thing is I think it would actually be harder to not do that because everybody’s ideas are so all over the place that the real challenge is in trying to put them into some sort of logical shape that is even recognizable as music.
Q: Do you think any of your songs would make good cell phone ringtones?
A: Oh, I think a lot of them would! We have put some together, in fact, and they’re out there right now, somewhere on the interweb . . . .
Q: What is the key to successful onstage, between-song witticisms? Or do you tend not to engage in those?
A: You’re really asking the wrong guy. I am the absolute bottom of the barrel, worst onstage witticist that you’ve ever experienced. I do occasionally attempt, but it’s really not my thing. I just try to talk to people and not be witty.
Q: Are any of you especially political/passionate about specific causes?
A: If politics is about envisioning a new, better world and trying to create it, then I feel that we are political. I feel like we’re doing our best to describe possible worlds that we would like to live in, ones which don’t limit people’s possibilities to imagine or oversimplify the complexities of the universe or make one person better or more important than anyone else.
Q: What everyday sounds do you enjoy?
A: I live very near to a huge highway in Oakland, and I have to say I’ve become accustomed to the white noise generated by it. It’s so funny, because my parents came and stayed with me a couple of years ago, and my mom swore it was the best sleep she had gotten in years, due to the hum of the highway. She lives in the countryside in Wisconsin, and she comes to Oakland to sleep well!
Q: What are some of your earliest memories of music? Be it lullabies, children’s show television themes or songs forced upon you by a family member. What about your earliest memories of truly loving music?
A: I have three musical memories that all seem to come from around the same time. The first was the Sunkist commercial with Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys. That song really stuck with me. I was four and living on a farm, and it is amazing how important it was to me. That was 1977, I think. I also remember that song The Gambler from the same period. The third and most vivid is memories of my grandfather playing organ when we would go visit them. He was a real maestro and could play all kinds of jazz standards and sing along with it. I got him to play the Girl from Ipanema last year, and it was amazing!
