What I didn't count on were the miles and miles scented with the delicate aroma of cow and horse, a miniscule central town with nowhere to eat and blunt dead-ends reminiscent of The Twilight Zone, and a combination of the most aggravating openers and the pushiest crowd I've ever experienced. But really, it was totally worth it - it's Deerhoof!
Oberlin is the alma mater of drummer and founder Greg Saunier, and also the home of lots of weird arts kids. I should not have been surprised that the local opening bands were more performance than music, and that the crowd of excited Oberlinites savagely pushed my friend and me into the metal fence protecting the meager stage, crushing us more and more throughout the show and endangering our lives (or at least invading any and all crevaces of personal space) along with endangering the Oberlinite's many piercings and pairs of Buddy Holly inspired, thick-rimmed glasses.
But let's forget about the pushy crowd, the opening band with a bunch of chicks making noises and cross-stitching, and my inability to speak normally when I bought the signed Offend Maggie sheet music from guitarist John Dietrich, who was nice enough to knock off $5 for my friend buying a bunch of Deerhoof vinyl. The show itself was incredible.
Armed with talent, experience, and the adoration of the Oberlin crowd, Deerhoof played their third homecoming spectacularly. Their thrilling experimentation and manipulation of their songs was seamless - it felt as if I were at a giant band practice after the big show, and they casually decided to tear everything apart and musically paste it back together. The Tears and Music of Love, Offend Maggie, Snoopy Waves - Deerhoof sought out each layer of instrumentation, each technique, each phrase from every song, stretching and pulling them like taffy before turning up the volume and slamming them back together. For example, Fresh Born, greater than the sum of its parts, was alternatingly hesitant and ferocious.
The show was heavy with Offend Maggie tracks, but Deerhoof brilliantly performed some older selections. A few singles from Milkman were especially impressive. The verses of Giga Dance were dissonantly beautiful and delicately eerie, but were followed by powerful, metal-infused choruses. My favorite selection of the night may have been Milking, which eliminated any reservation or restraint used for the recorded version. This performance of Milking was the most alive and exciting any song has ever been played.
Besides album favorites, Deerhoof pulled a few surprises out of their magic setlist. Along with a few new songs (which I can't remember enough to describe except to say they were fantastic), Deerhoof miraculously played two or three cover songs. Needless to say, it was almost unbelievably goofy when John started singing the opening "Gabba gabba" of the Ramones' song Pinhead.
Each member of Deerhoof has his or her own unique stage prescence. John and Ed hop around over wires and amps, shaking excess music out through their feet. Satomi's kicks and jumps are adorable, particularly when she wears her oversized fluffy tiger mask. However, for me, Greg is the scene stealer. Pounding away and snapping drumsticks on his itty bitty drumset, he makes more noise than I ever thought humanly possible. More importantly, Greg listens with impenetrable focus and gives each song whatever it requires, moment by moment, to make it great.
I can't say enough great things about Deerhoof. It's so inspiring to hear a band whose core, underneath experimentation, rock, and a sense of humor, is true musicality. If they are within a state-wide radius to you, seek them out immediately.
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