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It’s hard to pin down this Brooklyn trio, with their angular guitar dissonance and harmonies that range from drone to treacle. This live album showcases the band’s strange energy with a barrage of short songs and very little audience reaction.
The first thing to know is that it's pronounced "male." The important thing to know is that the Irish trio make the sort of rickety racket with metronomic drums, aggressive bass, spiky guitar, and disaffected vocals that immediately gets my attention
Featuring a thunderous rhythm section unafraid to venture into lockstepped odd grooves, a guitar team willing to weave in and out of those sonic pylons in tandem, and a beguiling childlike voice floating above it all, this is your standard Deerhoof.
Trebled-out bass lines, disaffected vocals that could very well be reading from a dream journal, and a penchant for occasional dissonance are taking the forefront in this outing, refining their savage punk structures with a more stylized approach.
When Rob Crow gets to anthologize the songs he wants to cover into an album, the results are disparate, insightful, and educational, ranging from King Crimson to the Melvins to the Beach Boys.
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