Its inevitable: No matter how unique a band may be, someone will find a way to compare them to other bands. For San Francisco four-piece Deerhoof, parallels continue to be drawn to Japanese artists: Cibo Matto, The Boredoms and Yoko Ono. Deerhoof's main vocalist, Satomi Matsuzaki, did grow up in Tokyo, but still, guitarist John Dieterich doesn't understand the constant comparisons.

"It's always mystifying to me," he says with a laugh, "but we keep getting it."

It could be because Deerhoof sound like no one else. Matsuzaki's artless falsetto may remind some of Ono, but Deerhoof's intricate mix of the primal and the precious leaves few easy reference points. Each album is a collage of extremes, a place where shards of dissonant noise and fragile, doe-eyed pop intertwine, frequently within the same song. Singing in a mixture of Japanese and English, Matsuzaki's surreal lyrics about magical animals and curious fruit are an odd fit within the band's more convulsive song structures. But it is this marriage of orchestrated chaos and triumphant amateurism that gives the group such a distinctive sound.