Deerhoof @ Stereo, Glasgow, 24 February

It’s an odd choice for an opener. Mirror Monster, the phantasmic second track from Deerhoof’s most recent album La Isla Bonita, begins with an ethereal chorus of mournful guitar quivers before a staggered, ambling breakbeat trips into the fog of noise. Above it all, Satomi Matsuzaki sings sweetly about us all being “islands in recovery”.

Given that the band’s current set is based so strongly on wracked garage and a simulacrum of RnB that’s constantly on the verge of implosion, it’s unusual that they should introduce us to their immersively-oddball avant-party with a moment of such fraught contemplation – but why should we expect anything else? As they have done repeatedly over 20 years, they’re inviting us to reframe what we already know, or at least to shift our perceptions of what a band should be. Essentially, Deerhoof are worlds away from traditional understandings of pop music.

Drummer Greg Saunier is a joy to behold; operating with the grace and poise of a ballerina, whilst bobbing, weaving and feinting like the most nimble of boxers; constantly sucker punching before raining down blows with speed and agility. He’s the technically-minded counterpoint to Matsuzaki’s more visceral glee, conveyed through high-kicking poses and air-traffic-controller dance moves.

Somehow, they concoct a bizarre logic where help the squalling rush of Exit Only can fit seamlessly alongside There’s That Grin’s hypnotically synthetic funk, while a perfect storm of off-piste guitars threaten immaculate harmony without losing their grip on discordancy. Pop bands come and go, fashions rise up and die. Meanwhile Deerhoof remain blissfully oblivious and fully plugged-in: so many steps ahead of the game.