Music Review: Deerhoof's 'La Isla Bonita'

Deerhoof called its new album “La Isla Bonita”—the beautiful island —and included a song called “Tiny Bubbles.” No, it’s not the song made famous by Hawaiian lounge lord Don Ho. It sounds more like an Ennio Morricone spaghetti Western theme. But 20 years into a career, with a dozen albums and scores of side projects, is Deerhoof trying to show it has a sense of humor?

Whatever is going on, it’s a winning turn. Deerhoof has previously made music often associated with the sounds of the German Krautrock movement of the ‘70s, or of early Sonic Youth —a bit cold, perhaps, and certainly very art-conscious. It’s been cited by such innovators as St. Vincent, Tune-Yards and even Flaming Lips as an influence, but has not gained the kind of renown of those followers.

The spark behind “La Isla Bonita,” though, was a whole other aesthetic: That of the Ramones. Deerhoof has covered “Pinhead” in concert regularly over the years. This time it really took hold, at least in approach.

The song “Exit Only” was the first recorded for this album and stands as its centerpiece, all about being in, of and for the moment. With the Ramones in mind, recording was all done live in guitarist Ed Rodriguez’s basement -- during what drummer and co-founder Greg Saunier has described as “a weeklong sleepover arguing over whether to try and sound like Joan Jett or Janet Jackson.”

And if that doesn’t sound like fun, what does? They even sound like they’re enjoying a song they’ve titled “Doom.”

For all that, this is still very recognizable as Deerhoof. The combination of Satomi Matsuzaki’s voice and bass, the jabbing and poking guitars of Rodriguez and John Dieterich, and Saunier’s sharp drumming still carry the precision of classic Krautrock, that arty cool. But the urgency of the recording has ensured that the feelings, even emotions in these songs, are not sublimated, not hidden in the artiness.

And yes, there is a darkness to it. Serious matters are afoot in these songs: Society is crumbling, the future is uncertain, communication is frustrating. But there’s also a self-awareness, with more than a wink. The closing song, a real tour de force of downcast disco bumping up against Radiohead, is given the purposefully eye-rolling title “Oh Bummer.”

Throughout, these little jokes abound, such as putting the title “God 2” on a churning new wave surf-rock instrumental. It’s the perfect soundtrack for a sunset on the beach of “La Isla Bonita.”