Now his band is on its sixth album, Bradford Cox gets to do what Bradford Cox wants – and we all have to get used to it, says Michael Hann. At this point, complaining about any of Bradford Cox's musical choices seems pointless: he does what he wants, and if you don't like it, you can go and listen to something else. You might as well suggest that oranges are all very well, but they'd be a whole lot better if they were peaches. Nevertheless, six albums intoDeerhunter's career, Bradford Cox's decision to embrace ultra-low fidelity seems perverse. Deerhunter's previous albums, Microcastle andHalcyon Digest, were – if not shiny, per se – bold and bright statements. Monomania, by contrast, sounds like it was recorded in a garden shed. Cox's voice is distorted and roughened throughout: it's paisley pop played through a garage rock-filter. It can be exciting: Leather Jacket II sounds permanently on the brink of falling apart, held together only by its lead guitar line; Dream Captain is disturbed bubblegum, the kind of song that used to crop up at the back end of albums by Kasenetz-Katzbands, after the singles. But it's hard not to yearn for the melodies to be served by a little more clarity.