Few efforts in my life have been as futile as trying to turn people on to all-over-the-place rockers Deerhoof. It’s rare for a musical outfit to make sounds so uncommon that I want to tell everyone about them, but even rarer for such enthusiasm to be met by total rejection. Friends react to Deerhoof like nails on a chalkboard, going as far to declare their songs “not music.” The reason I love the band is the same rational many use for hating them: they sound like nothing else. Secretly, I hope they eventually release an album the masses can love just as much as the fanatics, so that they too can get in on the band’s crazy and fun sound.

Offend Maggie won’t be that record. Deerhoof’s ninth album finds the band in the same sonic territory as 2007’s superb Friend Opportunity, the tunes here reflecting the group’s continued creeping towards the more straightforward (for Deerhoof, at least). Maggie never approaches the loony heights achieved on earlier albums, but gives fans a solid collection of Deerhoof tunes about basketballs and unrequited love sure to leave non-fans hitting the “stop” button.

Whereas the songs on Friend Opportunity found the then-three-piece band taking advantage of their economic size by experimenting with instruments, Maggie pushes guitars to the forefront, thanks to the addition of a second guitarist (Ed Rodriguez). Take raucous opener, “The Tears and Music of Love,” where the guitars enclose Greg Saunier’s pounding drums and Satomi Matsuzaki’s preschool garble (she sings in her native Japanese throughout the record, making any effort to transcribe even more hopeless) in a hard-hitting circle. Classic, chaotic Deerhoof. “Chandelier Searchlight” features hoppy guitars and drums perfect for Matsuzaki’s lyrics to hop-scotch off of, building up to one of the brightest choruses on the album. Sometimes, the guitars drift into jammy territory (see “Snoopy Waves” and “Numina O”), but usually get back on track (or, in the case of “Eaguru Guru,” erupt into a blast of Rage Against the Machine-worthy squall).

Other than a return to guitar emphasis, Maggie features all the hallmarks of a Deerhoof album. You get your song where Matsuzaki croons about an animal/inatimate object (”Basket Ball Get Your Groove Back”, featuring the verse “bunny jump”). You get the song where Saunier takes over vocal duties and sounds surprisingly poignant (”Family of Others”). You get the unlistenable interlude (”This is God Speaking”), as well as the track where the usually infantile Matsuzaki sings about a very grown-up topic (the title track, all about rejected affection via unanswered phone calls). And, of course, a few absolute knockouts, like the pretty-but-loud “My Purple Past” and the nonsensical-but-oh-so-much-fun “Fresh Born.”

Another Deerhoof album, another set of songs most people I know would delete from iTunes within seconds. But, for those who enjoy Deerhoof, Offend Maggie showcases one of the most thrilling and unpredictable bands around continuing to make enjoyable, exciting music. Not remotely a masterpiece, but a solid collection of songs nonetheless. And hey, maybe one day Matsuzaki’s toddler singing can grace VH1. A guy can dream.