San Francisco's strident Deerhoof is a much-loved deconstructionist art-pop outfit. The band is part no wave skronk, part Yoko Ono meets the B-52's, and part weirdo J-pop, and continues to push the musical envelope on each new recording. Reveille is a pretty good example of what Deerhoof is capable of. Quite a few of its songs are instrumental, for the most part, helter-skelterish flare-ups with primitive Casio-like bloops and bleeps, angular fizz-pop guitars, and epileptic drum freakouts. Those few songs that feature Satomi Matsuzaki's purring falsetto -- her very presence elevates this band above most avant pop groups -- have a simplicity and sugar-soaked sweetness, enticing listeners with charm before boxing their ears with an all-out aural assault. Reveille begins with an unassuming spoken word opening before launching into a variety of sounds. "All Rise" has a baseball stadium-cum-church organ feel, and "Days & Nights in the Forest" starts off with progressive jazz elements before introducing other elements. Though Deerhoof reportedly has to be seen performing live -- when the bandmembers are able to temper and balance the explosive quiet-loud of their tunes -- to be fully appreciated and to get the full effect, this album is as good a place to start your journey as any of the group's recordings.
