By Oresti Tsonopoulos

La Isla Bonita (Polyvinyl) was intended as Deerhoof’s attempt at a hyper-polished piece of pop art, a response to the late-’80s slick production of Madonna’s pseudo-Latin hit by the same name. Instead, the San Francisco four-piece’s 13th album celebrates the group’s 20th anniversary with a live basement recording, rough around the edges, playful, relentless and sinister all at once.

Deerhoof consistently inspires anxiety in listeners through its trademark intricate polyrhythmic explosions, whether they’re coming from epic guitar licks or near-apocalyptic drum fills. La Isla Bonita presents a few of these moments — on “Last Fad,” for example, with its sinister marching unison of guitar, bass and voice followed by a high-register baroque guitar waterfall. Or on the album’s closer, “Oh Bummer,” which develops into an ominous, horror-movie variation on the Ghostbusters theme, with a thumping kick drum, screeching electric guitars and a dirty bass riff that drives deep.

Those tighter, gripping moments aren’t as dense here as on some of Deerhoof’s past records. Where the group’s 2007 release, Friend Opportunity, is more present and develops obvious hooks, La Isla Bonita takes moments to recover from its aggressive licks with occasional calm. On “Mirror Monster,” a sparkly guitar tremolo envelops you along with a distant drum pattern that sounds more like orchestral percussion than like Deerhoof’s usual punk rock smashing. Perhaps it’s an homage to eclectic singer-songwriter Sufjan Stevens, who has said that Deerhoof is a favorite of his, perhaps it’s just a moment to breathe.

Singer Satomi Matsuzaki’s sparse, whimsical and repetitive vocals are childlike in their delivery but offer serious social commentary. She riffs on American culture with silly lines like “baseball is cancelled,” “new from America,” and “too many choice to order breakfast.” But Matsuzaki touches on harder issues as well, as on “Exit Only,” the crunchy, nasty, guitar-driven single where she reiterates, “You enter USA, welcome to speech of freedom,” before finishing with “Thank you for coming, get out now.” Though she targets America’s immigration policy, most listeners will glide past the issues in a record that is more about the jagged textures captured in the guitarist’s basement than the occasional, sometimes indecipherable words that fly by.

La Isla Bonita continues Deerhoof’s two-decade trajectory with an abundance of energy and occasional comfort. Even if it doesn’t feel like a response to Madonna’s late-’80s hit, it never needed to be.