Deerhoof's "Miracle-Level": A New Chapter in Experimental Rock

Experimental rockers Deerhoof have released a new album, Miracle-Level via Joyful Noise. 

Listening to young experimental rock musicians is always fascinating because they push the boundaries of traditional rock music. The energy and creativity of up-and-coming experimental rock bands make for an exciting listening experience that is not to be missed. It's always interesting to hear what fresh ideas and innovative sounds young experimental rock artists bring to the table, as they challenge the status quo and break new ground in the music industry.

Miracle-Level ticks off two firsts for the band—it’s their first album fully recorded in a proper recording studio and the first one completely sung in Japanese. When the album was announced in January, Deerhoof shared a new song from it, “Sit Down, Let Me Tell You a Story,” via a music video. Miracle-Level features “My Lovely Cat,” a new song the band shared last September. In February the band also shared another single from the album, “Wedding, March, Flower,” via a music video. Then they shared another song from it, “Phase-Out All Remaining Non-Miracles by 2028,” via an animated music video.

The album was produced by Mike Bridavsky and recorded at No Fun Club in Winnipeg, Manitoba over a two-week period in July.

Bridavsky had never worked with the band before and didn’t know them, but Joyful Noise founder Karl Hofstetter suggested him. Throughout their 28-year history, Deerhoof has typically taken a DIY approach to album production, often self-producing their work. However, for their latest release, the band broke from tradition and recorded the album in its entirety at a professional studio with the help of a producer.  A previous press release jokingly called Miracle-Level the band’s “studio debut.”

“Seemingly out of nowhere, I was presented with a miracle-level opportunity to produce Deerhoof for two consecutive weeks at No Fun Club in Winnipeg, Manitoba,” said Bridavsky in the press release. “I began listening through their albums and realized: I have no fucking idea how to make a Deerhoof record. Did anyone? They’d assembled a catalog of thoughtful, wild, and unique records, each different from the one before. I was about to be inserted into a thriving creative organism that’s worked almost exclusively with each other, with unlimited control of every blip and bleep. This was the session I’d been dreaming of for my whole professional life—and I was terrified.”

Bridavsky began the process by talking with the band’s Greg Saunier. “In my first call with Greg, I was relieved that we had an instant rapport,” he said. “Their biggest concern was dispensing with the months of obsessive tinkering that usually make their albums sound so beautiful and insane. He told me, ‘We don’t want to do our usual aggro control-freak thing. We’re going for bare-minimum production that doesn’t push the listener around.’”

Deerhoof gave Bridavsky a roster of artists that served as sources of inspiration for them —Rosalía, Meridian Brothers, Silvana Estrada, Les Freres Michot, Ngola Ritmos, Mozart opera—and none of them were English language artists. Instead vocalist Satomi Matsuzaki wanted to sing in her native Japanese tongue rather than the language of “the world’s policeman.”

Deerhoof rehearsed for a week prior to recording the album in a rehearsal space located near the residence of guitarist John Dieterich in Minneapolis. There Bridavsky finally met the band in person for the first time. It was just before the producer’s 42nd birthday. “They sat me down and performed the entire album from beginning to end,” Bridavsky remembered. “I knew we were about to make an amazing record. We went back to John’s where he prepared the most delightful fresh-baked pizza and apple pie followed by an a capella rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ We hadn’t even made it to the studio yet, and this was already one of the best sessions I’d ever been a part of.”

Once at No Fun Club, the band got settled into the studio by picking out instruments from the studio’s collection to use and working out the best rooms to record in. Then they finished the initial recording a day early, leaving extra time for mixing. “We’d reached a level of mutual trust where the band was comfortable with me mixing alone,” said Bridavsky. “I’d send them away and when I felt a mix was ready, I’d call them back into the control room to listen. The look of excitement and accomplishment on everyone’s faces is something I’ll never forget. Satomi, Ed [Rodriguez], John, and Greg tried something different on this record, and the result is Deerhoof at their most sparse and vulnerable.”

Deerhoof’s last album, Actually, You Can, came out in 2021 via Joyful Noise.