In what has become their trademark, Dehd take a consciously no-frills approach with new album Flower of Devotion. The trio are courageous enough to shed window-dressings of cool and quirk to produce lean, focused music whose power resides in its simplicity. This doesn’t belie a lack of ambition—instead speaking to a rare confidence and conceptual rigour. It feels like before they even recorded a note, Dehd knew exactly how this album would sound.
In fact, they probably did. Flower of Devotion, more than any album in recent memory, sounds like it was recorded live. Anyone who’s listened to an album by Aussie psych band The Murlocs can attest to how great that can be. The timing couldn’t be better, as thousands lie in desperate drought of live experiences on measly hits of studio-recorded methadone.
And, like a gig, Flower of Devotion compresses and steals time. You’re propelled through the album like a bullet, barely touching the sides before you’re done. Songs rarely break the three-minute mark and repetition is used to pounding effect. Eric McGrady’s sloppy George-of-the-Jungle drums are so infectious I wouldn’t be surprised if they extend lockdown for a few months.
This sense of fun is what characterises Dehd against a wave of sadcore indie music. The genre overflows with songs about ones that got away, ones who never showed up in the first place; you get the idea. Dehd don't seem to interested in this, and aren’t so insufferably self-conscious to worry more about their categorisation than their content. It feels like they just love the sound of electric guitars, drums, and amplified voices, with a mentality which could easily transfer to ale-chugging party metal.
Like Hookworms (before their unfortunate career-ending controversy), or indie elder gods Black Kids, Dehd capture everything the genre has ever hoped to. They achieve the magic trick of simplicity that’s impossible to replicate or analyse. Flower of Devotion is never trite, never frivolous, but instantly makes the world feel like an easier place to be in.
It has a sound which is now nostalgic, carrying associations from before politics was a theatre of reactionaries, incendiary enough to split families; before the internet was awash with apathy and cynicism, and anything felt possible. The sun is shining brighter today than it has all year long. I’m not convinced Dehd didn’t summon it.
Flower of Devotion is available for purchase and streaming here. Do yourself a favour.
Words: Andrew O’Keefe