Deerhunter - Cryptograms

The first time I heard Deerhunter was back during the old days The Wax Museum was around. Cleverly titled, it was a tiny store on Montana near downtown that prevailed amongst true vinyl heads. The owner ran a modest shop that catered to funk, old soul and jazz, some electronic and some indie music. He had a few books, a few cassettes and a few CDs to sell as well and he’d always be willing to let you play the record first and hear it before purchasing. I had heard this band from Georgia was coming to El Paso but I just sort of shelved it and never gave it much thought. The concert came and went and I went a week later to find copies of Cryptograms at the Wax Museum and I promptly bought one.

I bought the CD and immediately realized how foolish I was for not going to see them in concert. Half of the album is these ambient pieces that sort of melt into the linings of the music and act as breathers in between the intensity of the other half. The rest is a noisy and poppy but still rocking set of songs that showcase Deerhunter in full-on assault mode. “Octet” is a song that combines both of these styles onto one song that shines on the album. The beginning sounds like tranquil vibes of water glistening in the night and then a bass dives in. The music swells and grows from here with hi-hat, Bradford Cox’s growling vocals and the surrounding noise coming to a head.

What’s probably most amazing about a band like Deerhunter is how their albums really do change in terms of sound. They’re the kind of young band that has already mastered the ability of being able to drastically try out new mediums and new modes and they never, ever sound the same. Nothing from Cryptograms will be seen on Halcyon Digest, nothing from Microcastle was relatively close to Monomania. A truly remarkable band, “Lake Somerset” is simply the highlight of this album for me. It has the menacing guitar throughout and the drums come in dashes of light and heavy and Cox’s voice again takes over with even more snarling. But the magic of this song is the way it just massively roars and my goodness, it needs to be played as loud as possible every single time to be able to take in its entire glory. It has two separate instances where it just grows into explosions and the pay-off is everything. They came around to El Paso one more time and with my arm branded and all (BRADFORD WAS HERE), they played this song. Front row with my ears begging for it to stop, I didn’t care, it was pure bliss and that’s what Deerhunter is about – Bryan

Deerhunter - Microcastle

Back in the winter of 2008 was a band called Deerhunter and their subtle, yet timely ways. I was nothing more than a fresh, young-faced 23-year old punk kid that was lost in the world. Without a soul to stand by and without a way out of the encaged sadness that I was living in for the past year I latched onto the music that was pouring into my heart. Weakness aside, Deerhunter had made an impression on me a year before with Cryptograms and its endless bliss of beauty – please remember to write about that one some. But it wasn’t until the splendid seamlessness of Microcastle that it all finally made sense to me.

See, back in that winter they decided to stop by El Paso for a memorable show. While I reached for the front, we were torn apart by the sheer loudness of the music as we were prime and center. The band wore ear plugs but I remember just feeling overcome with the wave of sounds. “Cover Me (Slowly)” seems like the perfect introduction to “Agoraphobia” anyways and the way Bradford Cox sings, “cover me, cover me” at the beginning of the latter, it just makes sense. I love the way the former is a cloudy disarray of ominous shade and distortion before leading into the sparkling guitar and keyboard of “Agoraphobia.”

Agoraphobia is described as the ‘abnormal fear of being helpless in an embarrassing or inescapable situation.’ I read somewhere else that it’s like being afraid of getting a panic attack during a difficult situation. You feel the smoothness of the fuzzy droning in the background and the way the music ebbs and flows against both the atmosphere and rhythms, like a calming medicine – like if being paranoid and not being able to escape the paranoia – it washes all away. The song is pure pop sugar, one of the myriad of facets Deerhunter pull off so amazingly.


And then there’s the last song on here, “Twilight at Carbon Lake.” Imagery first: a ray of light flashing in the sky in the middle of the sordid water. (how can water be sordid and how can the ray of light flash in the sky? Haha) There’s a lulling, twirling guitar melody that always seems to be creeping in and out of focus. Behind the warbling vocals, the desperate atmospherics and the entire calamity is a soaring entrance and as it swells and swells – adding layers and layers of sounds – into a huge wall of sound, it all disappears so easily. It’s fitting as a closer because of the way it ties in all of this nonsensical dreariness into a blasting array of explosions: it’s beautifully awkward in the way it’s constructed. And it’s devastatingly intense as one of the best songs Deerhunter has ever written. – Bryan