How many years until the fresh turns sour; until the brand-new rusts; until the tender hardens? This question faced by musicians and creatives looking to continue making their unique stamp on the arts prevails experimental mediums, acts always pushing against the doctrine of accessibility. Artists who fiddle and tinker with the blurred and temperamental boundaries of genre tend to fall into failure more often than breakthroughs, but in the rare case of Deerhoof, experimentation is a wave they just keep riding, a wheel of fortune that’s a winner every time. The hailed noise veterans’ new record, Noble and Godlike in Ruin, continues to power forward the band’s signature disruptive and chaotic sound, while maintaining a relevance and timeliness which feels at home amidst the world’s current calamitous climate. 

A prelude of sorts opens the record. Overrated Species Anyhow acts as a thank you note from vocalist Satomi Matsuzaki to Deerhoof’s long standing fans, but also to the oft misunderstood and mistreated members of society, those predisposed to unfortunate circumstance or seeking asylum; “My savages”, “My aliens”. A shimmer of guitar chords intertwined with the peaceful chirping of birds contribute a calm, hymn like quality, gently easing listeners in to prepare them for the cyclonic Sparrow Sparrow. Rhythmically complex and harsh in timbre, the first full fledged dive into Deerhoof’s trademark experimentalism contrasts cold, unhinged guitar tones with an unexpectedly tuneful vocal performance. Elements of post-punk and industrial rock work together here to provide a no-less-than completely captivating, fast paced track as Matsuzaki muses the stark class disconnect between workers and industrialists. Humanity becomes desolate unto the influence of technology, “electric meat” is who we are in the eyes of the oppressors. 

Kingtoe maintains the timbral contrast between sing-songy melody and an industrial base with deep, electronic percussion topped with almost comically naive guitar and synth lines. Themes of machinery and loss of humanity are also continued, “I heard that you were just an animal”, “You make machines and I am one”. Here, however, a resistance is acknowledged. Towards the track’s ending, layered vocal lines, a la Remain In Light era Talking Heads, realise humanity’s emotional complexity and solidarity in the face of hegemonic dictation. The artificial binary between “gloomy” and “sunny” as established in the song’s opening stanza is met and rectified in Matsuzaki’s claim, “I have always felt them both”.

While straddling an infectiously groovy bassline, Return of the Return of the Fire Trick Star manages to be also one of the record’s most sonically evil moments. Syncopated interplay between drums and guitars lend the feel of an abridged 1970s krautrock classic, keeping listeners hooked throughout. More lyrically sparse than other cuts here, themes of class and power are still continued through critique of unrealistic social standards, “Tell me I am more than underbar / Raise me like a pretty buttercup”. 

In stark juxtaposition once again, A Body of Mirrors opens with a beautifully cinematic synthesised wall of sound, glistening like glass beneath and between prose detailing fruitless attempts towards salvation. These attempts rectified only by the symbolic matrimony between the narrator and a crow, classically a symbol of bad luck and death but also transformation, hinting at the moral sacrifices demanded to be made to reach peace in our world. Transitory in nature the track makes way for perhaps the album’s most deranged and cataclysmic cut, aptly titled, Ha, Ha Ha Ha, Haaa (yes, specifically as such). Lyrically cryptic and demented, the majority of the song seems like the ramblings of a crazed military or scientific official, spouting repetitions of “Atomic bombs” and “Bomb, bomb, bomb” from both Matsuzaki and drummer Greg Saunier. All this grounded by Saunier’s steady but brain-bashing drum grooves present throughout the record. 

Disobedience opts for a confrontational embrace of noise, conjuring up images of naval  mobilisation through its marching-band drums and pounding guitars. With a clear directive towards revolution, the more narrative focused track demands recollection of such anti-authoritarian counter-culture pieces as Sergei Eisenstein’s 1925 motion picture, Battleship Potemkin. Mobilisation of the masses is on display here as the ship’s crew of 99 consolidate to mutiny against the gun-wielding captain of the vessel. This story is left unresolved however, where listeners are instead confronted with a bleak monologue delivered by Matsuzuki where a dystopian “Cop City” characterised by authoritarian control and surveillance has since prevailed. Resistance is still implored, however, through the suggestion to stick a “mislaid brick” in there, thus taking down said authoritarian state from within. 

Who Do You Root For? is surely the punkiest cut on the tracklist at a snappy sub 2-minute runtime complete with thrashing guitars and a more direct, parallel structured vocal approach. Angsty and energetic, Deerhoof are at their most frustrated here, both in lyrical and sonic features. Proceeding, Under Rats expands again the album’s generic expedition, incorporating rapped verses from contemporary collaborator Saul Williams pondering human beings’ “…cathartic shift to vegetable” as we sink deeper into our own constructed demise at the hands of man-induced climate change. A poignant and nuanced commentary linking environmental exploitation to the exploitation of human beings through unethical and unsustainable labour, “Blood and oil, drainable”; two deadly currencies, inextricable. All this over a groove reminiscent of 90s gangsta rap, precisely cut with Jack White style screeching guitars. 

Closing the record, Immigrant Songs leans initially into Deerhoof’s more pop-centric influence. Catchy vocal melodies, dreamy guitars and danceable drum grooves work to contrast the chaos of the record’s latter half, proving more accessible and listenable than any other cut displayed here. That is until about half way through the track where pop sensibilities completely recede into completely deranged, atonal noise which sees out the 7 minute runtime. This juxtaposition feels a fitting resolution to an album fraught with themes of human transformation and displacement, justified further through Matsuzaki’s lyrical navigation of immigrant perspectives regarding asylum and assimilation within a euro/anglo-centric world.

Noble and Godlike in Ruin is one of 2025’s best musical offerings thus far into the year, brilliantly unique, cohesive and meaningful in its sonic and thematic attributes. Without straying from their signature experimental vocabulary, Deerhoof manage to expertly curate a constantly engaging and exciting record, fusing elements of electronic, industrial, punk and pop music seamlessly. The record captivates listeners in every track through ingenious sonic variation while simultaneously accumulating depth with repeat listens. A mustn’t miss for fans of alternative, experimental rock and a high recommendation for those yet to dabble in such abrasive styles. 

96/100

Alex Collins