Deerhoof's
songs make plenty of sense in their own fractured way, at least for those
willing to follow the band's logic (or take a lucky guess at it). One catchy
and mystifying bit crashes into another, and everyone goes home a little
crazier and a little happier. Then again, that discounts the purposeful
tightness of the band's adventures. It's a lot easier to credit them for that
after hearing Offend Maggie. Satomi Matsuzaki's vocals push into the lead more than
ever before, helping each phase of a song muscle over into the next. The
album-opening "The Tears And Music Of Love" has the feeling of a band charging
forward in unison despite its love of playful tangents. Not that they've left
those behind: A flickering acoustic guitar figure at first seems like the most
whimsical part of "Offend Maggie," but holds the song together as the band
thickens up the noise atop breezy hooks. On "Buck And Judy," the tuneful
passages and deconstructed instrumental bits don't just coexist—they
bleed into each other, giving the song time to build up a conflicted swirl of
moods. In fact, nearly all the songs on Offend Maggie find different ways to achieve a
surprisingly full, evocative union of Deerhoof's pop sense and experimental
whims, whether they're tossing and turning in gleeful anticipation ("Snoopy
Waves") or in anxiety ("My Purple Past").