C: Cryptograms by Deerhunter

For a band that’s come from a perennially uncool city (Atlanta), these mothers have been drudging up some pretty heavy hype. Rightfully so, one tends to cast a shifty eyeball on any art that comes out of nowhere to near unanimous praise. It seems unfounded, unwarranted, unearned. But backlash for backlash’s sake is shit (see the smart review of the new Klaxons album on Pitchfork, which isn’t all that bad): it’s just lazy, let’s make an argument by taking the opposing view journalism.

Regardless, by reflex, I tend to get disinterested when the hype machine starts steamrolling. Still, my brother recommended I check them out as someone that I’d like. (By the way, he and his friends at 16 have way more advanced musical tastes than I ever knew existed at that age. I thought Fat Wreck Chords was as underground as it got.) So I did. And he was right.

Starting off with swirling psychedelic guitars submerged in delay pings and synthetic effects, I’m never sure where the hell things are going to end up. And it’s the inherent fun in Cryptograms: you’re thrown into the melee, occasionally allowed up for air, or floating in an ambient dust cloud. The stationary instrumentals, which at times sound like label-mates Windy & Carl, intermingle with 1,000-yard stare post-punk that reads from the Sonic Youth book, but draws its own conclusions. Yet while those two groups couldn’t sound more different next to one another in form or principal, Deerhunter manage to straddle a very large divide and deliver quite impressive results everywhere.

The title track, “Lake Somerset”, and “Octet” represent more of the college radio friendly fare (and indicative of Deerhunter’s “traditional” songwriting chops?) from the first half of the album, those representing the aforementioned delirious no-wave and noise rock. Their trance inducing minimalism-is-maximalism is flooring, similar to the way Spacemen 3 were able to wring out tons of weight from simple chord progressions and repetition. That first half is rumored (we don’t fact check here, asshole) to be recorded about 2 months prior to the second. The second half, starting with “Spring Hall Convert”, arrives with magnificent Technicolor harmony, subverting the minor-key My Bloody Valentine half for more candy coated noise pop that swells and swells until it reaches the breaking, but unfortunate stopping point. Once you hit “Heatherwood” it almost seems like you’re listening to a completely different band or album, but one that, looking hard enough, comes full circle.

Weirdly, on track 9 of 12 of the distant Cryptograms the singing finally comes into plain focus on “Strange Lights”. Frontman Brandon Cox sweetly coos that “Walking’s half the fun”. It couldn’t be more appropriate: Deerhunter’s a band that emphasizes the absolute joy of tension-building and repetition. The process is always better than the payout.