Bay Area art-rockers Deerhoof stomp all over the traditional pop-song template and then superglue the tiny, serrated pieces back together. The choruses don't come in when they're supposed to (when there's a chorus at all), or there are five mini-choruses it's practically impossible to guess what's around the corner in a Deerhoof song. The band employs a pack-rat songwriting mentality that results in more tempo shifts and key changes in a two-minute tune than many acts cram into an entire EP. Dissonant and abrasive, yes, but captivating and thrilling, too; the rambunctious drumming and fragmented guitar riffing are pleasantly complemented by the play-school melodies of singer Satomi Matsuzaki, and then the songs dissolve into a perfect mess. Deerhoof's latest, The Runners Four, stays put in the noise-pop niche the band has carved out on previous albums but stretches a bit into '60s psychedelia. It's more radio-friendly, if that can be said about a band that clearly has no such aspirations.