Album Review: Deerhunter - Monomania

Deerhunter
Monomania
Rating: Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It

Five albums in to their quite eccentric career, Atlanta based Deerhunter never play it safe. From their earliest songs that bit and snarled in a muck of in-the-red sonic obfuscation, through to their shoegaze explorations, and more recently, their more tempered and crystalline moments of pure pop bliss, the band has challenged its fans and listeners with each new foray, never quite going over the line of willing alienation. Well, until now. To get it out of the way, Monomania is a fucking mess. It almost goes back to the overwhelming cacophony of their debut album at times, and the first few listens had me checking to make sure I hadn't stumbled upon some batch of outtakes that never should have seen the light of day. Specifically, the first two tracks tested and still test my patience. The whiplash sonics of sludgy, psych rock opener "Neon Junkyard" preview one of the least endearing characteristics of Monomania, which is the choice to shove Bradford Cox's vocals so high and distorted in the mix it overwhelms everything. There is a good idea here in this first track, however, it is the execution of said idea that is way off the mark. Things do not improve on the noisefest known as "Leather Jacket II" which is three excruciating minutes of ear bleed vocals, out of tune guitars, muddied production, and a design for pure sonic torture.

These two horrific tracks alone were almost enough to get me to cry Uncle, thankfully things snapped back into place with the absolutely gorgeous track "The Missing" with its intertwined guitar play and subtle washes of analog keyboards. Hope restored. On "Pensacola," Deerhunter use the same sort of sloppy, garage band approach from the first two tracks, but allow the hook to drive the track and not the production, which carries over into the shambolic, head-bobber "Deam Captain." It is really not until the mid-section of the record where things rise to the level we expect from Deerhunter. "Blue Agent" revels in its delicate guitar back and forth and subtle vocal from Cox. "T.H.M." provides tension and contrast between the lovely, shimmering guitars and Cox's increasingly manic vocal. Album highlight "Sleepwalking" draws from both shoegaze and 50s rock for an interesting combination.

And while the album continues in a more muted pattern, eschewing the sloppiness of the leading tracks, it becomes a more transcendent experience, the guitars become mantra like, taking you out of yourself into hypnotic territory. "Back to the Middle" takes a more repetitive approach with its ringing guitars that are layered over one another expertly. Likewise, "Monomania" uses Cox's vocals almost as a lead instrument, coating it in dark echo and reverb, aligning it with the dark waves of guitar.



Monomania is a hard album to like and it constantly makes you want to turn it off. Within all the sonic sludgery, there is a great album lurking in here, crying desperately to get out. I want to love it, I really want to just enjoy it, but it keeps bitch slapping and pistol whipping you uncontrollably. I think this record will be more interesting to listen to when their sixth album comes out. I want to see if this is just an odd excursion into bizarre territory, a giant fuck you as the band self-implodes, or if it just a water-testing exploration which will take Deerhunter into some other grandiose new world. For now, I am scratching my head, interested of course, but very confused.

Rating Scale:

Chilfos: masterpiece; coolest thing I've heard in ages.

Woof Daddy: excellent; just a hair away from being a masterpiece.

Grrrr: very good; will definitely be considered for my top releases of the year.

Yeah Daddy Make Me Want It: good; definitely invites further listens and piques one's interest for more material.

Meh: not horrible, but certainly not great; could have either been polished, trimmed, or re-thought.

Jeez Lady: what the hell happened? Just plain bad. They should hang their heads in shame and be forced to listen to Lady Gaga ad nauseam as penance.

Tragicistani: so bad, armed villagers with pitchforks and torches should run the artist out of the country for inflicting this abomination on the human race.