Deerhunter return with their seventh (or thereabouts) studio album; it’s obviously manna from heaven for their many devotees, but will it win them any new converts?
It actually might, you know: to their credit, they’ve moved away from the washed-out, colour-bled shoegaze sound that's defined them for most of their career; Bradford Cox’s songs are now more robust, and the performances - bolstered by a second guitarist and new bassist - feel full of fight, harder to ignore or forget. The marvellous ‘Neon Junkyard’ and ‘Blue Agent’ sound like White Album-era Beatles dragged through the bushes by a Flying Nun band like The Clean or This Kind Of Punishment; ‘The Missing’ is serene, surging jangle-pop that would’ve ruled the provincial indie-discos over here any time between ‘86 and ‘94; and ‘Pensacola’ is a punk-country pastiche that shouldn’t work but really does, summoning the bluesy, boozy swagger of Epic Soundtracks and Rowland S. Howard. Cox and Nicholas Vernhes’ production is spot-on, giving the well-turned songs the focus and brightness they deserve while also privileging rough edges and surface grime. The result is Deerhunter’s most likeable LP in years and perhaps - perhaps - even a minor classic of modern-day garage/college rock.
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Deerhunter return with their seventh (or thereabouts) studio album; it’s obviously manna from heaven for their many devotees, but will it win them any new converts?
It actually might, you know: to their credit, they’ve moved away from the washed-out, colour-bled shoegaze sound that's defined them for most of their career; Bradford Cox’s songs are now more robust, and the performances - bolstered by a second guitarist and new bassist - feel full of fight, harder to ignore or forget. The marvellous ‘Neon Junkyard’ and ‘Blue Agent’ sound like White Album-era Beatles dragged through the bushes by a Flying Nun band like The Clean or This Kind Of Punishment; ‘The Missing’ is serene, surging jangle-pop that would’ve ruled the provincial indie-discos over here any time between ‘86 and ‘94; and ‘Pensacola’ is a punk-country pastiche that shouldn’t work but really does, summoning the bluesy, boozy swagger of Epic Soundtracks and Rowland S. Howard. Cox and Nicholas Vernhes’ production is spot-on, giving the well-turned songs the focus and brightness they deserve while also privileging rough edges and surface grime. The result is Deerhunter’s most likeable LP in years and perhaps - perhaps - even a minor classic of modern-day garage/college rock.
Deerhunter return with their seventh (or thereabouts) studio album; it’s obviously manna from heaven for their many devotees, but will it win them any new converts?
It actually might, you know: to their credit, they’ve moved away from the washed-out, colour-bled shoegaze sound that's defined them for most of their career; Bradford Cox’s songs are now more robust, and the performances - bolstered by a second guitarist and new bassist - feel full of fight, harder to ignore or forget. The marvellous ‘Neon Junkyard’ and ‘Blue Agent’ sound like White Album-era Beatles dragged through the bushes by a Flying Nun band like The Clean or This Kind Of Punishment; ‘The Missing’ is serene, surging jangle-pop that would’ve ruled the provincial indie-discos over here any time between ‘86 and ‘94; and ‘Pensacola’ is a punk-country pastiche that shouldn’t work but really does, summoning the bluesy, boozy swagger of Epic Soundtracks and Rowland S. Howard. Cox and Nicholas Vernhes’ production is spot-on, giving the well-turned songs the focus and brightness they deserve while also privileging rough edges and surface grime. The result is Deerhunter’s most likeable LP in years and perhaps - perhaps - even a minor classic of modern-day garage/college rock.
Deerhunter return with their seventh (or thereabouts) studio album; it’s obviously manna from heaven for their many devotees, but will it win them any new converts?
It actually might, you know: to their credit, they’ve moved away from the washed-out, colour-bled shoegaze sound that's defined them for most of their career; Bradford Cox’s songs are now more robust, and the performances - bolstered by a second guitarist and new bassist - feel full of fight, harder to ignore or forget. The marvellous ‘Neon Junkyard’ and ‘Blue Agent’ sound like White Album-era Beatles dragged through the bushes by a Flying Nun band like The Clean or This Kind Of Punishment; ‘The Missing’ is serene, surging jangle-pop that would’ve ruled the provincial indie-discos over here any time between ‘86 and ‘94; and ‘Pensacola’ is a punk-country pastiche that shouldn’t work but really does, summoning the bluesy, boozy swagger of Epic Soundtracks and Rowland S. Howard. Cox and Nicholas Vernhes’ production is spot-on, giving the well-turned songs the focus and brightness they deserve while also privileging rough edges and surface grime. The result is Deerhunter’s most likeable LP in years and perhaps - perhaps - even a minor classic of modern-day garage/college rock.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Deerhunter return with their seventh (or thereabouts) studio album; it’s obviously manna from heaven for their many devotees, but will it win them any new converts?
It actually might, you know: to their credit, they’ve moved away from the washed-out, colour-bled shoegaze sound that's defined them for most of their career; Bradford Cox’s songs are now more robust, and the performances - bolstered by a second guitarist and new bassist - feel full of fight, harder to ignore or forget. The marvellous ‘Neon Junkyard’ and ‘Blue Agent’ sound like White Album-era Beatles dragged through the bushes by a Flying Nun band like The Clean or This Kind Of Punishment; ‘The Missing’ is serene, surging jangle-pop that would’ve ruled the provincial indie-discos over here any time between ‘86 and ‘94; and ‘Pensacola’ is a punk-country pastiche that shouldn’t work but really does, summoning the bluesy, boozy swagger of Epic Soundtracks and Rowland S. Howard. Cox and Nicholas Vernhes’ production is spot-on, giving the well-turned songs the focus and brightness they deserve while also privileging rough edges and surface grime. The result is Deerhunter’s most likeable LP in years and perhaps - perhaps - even a minor classic of modern-day garage/college rock.
Available To Order (Estimated Shipping between 7-14 Working Days)
This item is to the best of our knowledge available to us from the supplier and should ship to you within the time-frame indicated. If there are any unforeseen issues with availability we will notify you immediately
Deerhunter return with their seventh (or thereabouts) studio album; it’s obviously manna from heaven for their many devotees, but will it win them any new converts?
It actually might, you know: to their credit, they’ve moved away from the washed-out, colour-bled shoegaze sound that's defined them for most of their career; Bradford Cox’s songs are now more robust, and the performances - bolstered by a second guitarist and new bassist - feel full of fight, harder to ignore or forget. The marvellous ‘Neon Junkyard’ and ‘Blue Agent’ sound like White Album-era Beatles dragged through the bushes by a Flying Nun band like The Clean or This Kind Of Punishment; ‘The Missing’ is serene, surging jangle-pop that would’ve ruled the provincial indie-discos over here any time between ‘86 and ‘94; and ‘Pensacola’ is a punk-country pastiche that shouldn’t work but really does, summoning the bluesy, boozy swagger of Epic Soundtracks and Rowland S. Howard. Cox and Nicholas Vernhes’ production is spot-on, giving the well-turned songs the focus and brightness they deserve while also privileging rough edges and surface grime. The result is Deerhunter’s most likeable LP in years and perhaps - perhaps - even a minor classic of modern-day garage/college rock.