Deerhoof at Brudenell Social Club

Few bands are as unpredictable as Deerhoof – and even fewer are this reliably brilliant. Now entering their fourth decade together, the San Francisco quartet continue to dodge easy classification. Noise-pop? Art-rock? DIY anti-capitalist disco-punk? Sure. But really, they just sound like Deerhoof.

Returning to Brudenell Social Club in the wake of their 20^th, yes 20th album, Noble and Godlike in Ruin, Deerhoof are once again reinventing themselves – into something darker. The record draws inspiration from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, with the band describing it as their “low-budget DIY monster” – stitched-together, scrappy, and howling with life. But it’s also part of a wide portrait – of a world descending into monstrous hate, dehumanisation, and dollar signs.

Satomi Matsuzaki’s singular voice – part karaoke deadpan, part cool detonation – cuts through jumbled rhythms and dense, maximalist arrangements, while her bandmates lurch between horror-movie strings, punk-jazz ruptures, and mutant grooves that sound like they’ve been through a blender. The drums are sometimes filtered to sound almost electronic, but no computer could come up with rhythms so funky and dynamic.

If that sounds like a lot, that’s because it is. But Deerhoof aren’t interested in sleekness. These are songs that collapse rather than conclude, mutate rather than repeat, rail against the dying of the light with giddy defiance. Noble and Godlike in Ruin is their most abrasive record in years, and it’s also one of their most vital – packed with surreal political rants, DIY fury, and moments of startling beauty buried in the wreckage.

And just to hammer this home, Deerhoof are on their 20^th, yes 20^th, album, released a whole two decades after Pitchfork called them “the best band in the world”. And still they’re consistently delivering the goods. Still brilliant. Still weird. Still moving forward. That’s rare.

With the band in this kind of feral form, the live shows accompanying the album become super exciting. Deerhoof are known for sets that feel like joyous acts of rebellion – tight but unpredictable, childlike but deeply intelligent. With 20 albums under their belt, they’re spoiled for choice, but the through-line is always the same: music that refuses to behave.

“The best band in the world”? Head to Brudenell and decide for yourself.