Deerhunter won Pitchfork Music Festival. Blue ribbons all around. If you were there, chances are Deerhunter done fucked you up. You might still be reeling. I am.

The Atlanta-based spirit warriors came out guns blazing Sunday evening sporting a variety of their latest bangers (“Helicopter,” “Revival”) and a classic, not often played gem from Cryptograms (“Hazel St.”). However, the vast majority of Deerhunter’s set consisted of their most hypnotic material -  songs like “Desire Lines,” “Little Kids,” et al. While limited to less than an hour on stage, the band still triumphantly rode those aforementioned grooves to the end of the astral plane. “Nothing Ever Happened” clocked in over 15 drugged-out (but upbeat) minutes. And between the impromptu noise freak-outs and the song’s soaring coda, Bradford summoned his inner Alan Vega to deliver an urgent, frantic cover of Patti Smith’s “Horses”, as well as his inner Thurston Moore to utilize the stage fan as an instrument. “Nothing Ever Happened” ranks as one of my favorite concert moments in recent memory. But surprisingly, this was not their grand exit. The band opted to end on a more emotionally powerful note, as they did on Halcyon Digest, with the vivid “He Would Have Laughed,” Bradford’s tribute to his late friend Jay Reatard.

Deerhunter put their dynamic live approach on full display, ensuring the Pitchfork audience understood how easily and acrobatically the band can toggle between concise pop and monolithic bliss-outs. The improvement between when I saw them in 2009 (which was a great show) and at Pitchfork (which was a next level show) is remarkable, but not unexpected. Last year’s Halcyon Digest showcased Deerhunter at their most confident and relaxed, compared to the visceral tension rife within their previous full-lengths. The Deerhunter who played the same festival in 2007 was a nascent act, with a vocalist whom endured incessant and insensitive jabs about his physical appearance in the press. His response: provocation – cross dressing, chain smoking, bizarre puppeteering, and talking shit on stage (not to mention in subsequent interviews too). Newton’s third law manifests in human behavior as well. Thankfully, Deerhunter no longer have to prove themselves to anyone anymore – they’ve written and released three practically flawless and important albums in the interim. For their 2011 return, the audience in front of the Green Stage witnessed a band in total control of their sound, comfortable in their own skin. The guys visibly had a blast beguiling the crowd with brightly tinted melodies while grabbing everyone by the collar and dragging us down the rabbit hole.

Beyond just the maturation, Deerhunter’s intra-band dynamic is so pronounced and effective, it’s second to none. Gone is the sonic anarchy that brought them initial attention, replaced with an extremely well-oiled machine concocted from separate parts efficiently working in tandem with total vigor. Moses’ vicious, metronomic timekeeping and Josh’s bouncing, fluid low-end anchors in a solid foundation for Bradford and Lockett to bend sounds, propel celestial loops, break sound barriers, and launch the songs into orbit. The cadence of Deerhunter’s live sound lies somewhere between whimsical interstellar improv and classic dream pop sensibility.

It’s worth mentioning that during “Little Kids,” I witnessed a gaggle of blond-haired, henna-saturated, tanned beyond fluorescence hippie chicks engaging in the dress-twirl dance common within the festival-going demographic. This is just outstanding. That Deerhunter – a band whose catalog bolsters a significant output of noise and ambient explorations, a band who has described themselves in the past as “not terribly photogenic” (something that doesn’t bother me obviously), a band who released a debut titled Turn It Up Faggot, a band with a frontman more than happy to push the envelope – is able to appeal to such a wide base, against all logic, demonstrates that these alchemists have tapped into something. What is Deerhunter? A psych band? Garage act? Indie rock mainstay? A steadfast festival darling? Does it matter? I maintain, as I have for a quite some time, that Deerhunter is simply the finest contemporary American rock and roll band, mesmerizing in every facet. Deerhunter is simply unfuckwithable. (Photos by Jerry Risner for The Decibel Tolls)