Expect the Unexpected

Turns out the guy was pretty much right about everything, though he can take little solace in being right about anything.

The very name of the band Gerald Casale founded nearly 40 years ago in Akron, Ohio, delineated the concept behind the group: Devo, derived from “de-evolution,” were tongue-in-cheek rock ’n’ roll futurists wary of the very future they were anticipating.

Culturally speaking, they saw the evolutionary bell curve as being on its downward slope, with regression instead of progression in the years ahead.

And this was before disco, even.

Close to four decades later, much of what Devo was postulating in its equally hooky and heady robo-pop jams can all be boiled down and validated in but two words: “Jersey” and “Shore.”

So, basically, the times have caught up with Devo, at long last.

“We are now a part of what we talk about. We’re just part of the soup. We’re in it,” Casale says. “We’re not shocking, we’re not off-putting. We’re more like the house band on the Titantic: We’re here to entertain and soothe as we all go down together.”

If this be the case, at least Devo is attempting to provide a dance-worthy soundtrack to said plummet.

This week, the band released its first new disc in 20 years, “Something For Everybody,” an energized, sardonic and highly self-aware burst of quirky, catchy synth pop.

The disc sounds more contemporary than it probably should, which is likely attributable, at least in part, to the ubiquity on the airwaves of bands that have clearly borrowed a page from this bunch, acts such as the Ting Tings, Hot Chip, LCD Soundsystem, Santigold, MSTRKRFT and others.

In putting together the record, Devo utilized a somewhat novel concept, employing focus groups to solicit feedback on what songs should make the album.

Basically, the band let fans and music industry types determine the character of the disc.

“We thought it was continuing the spirit of Devo, because Devo always did some unexpected things and always played with the idea of how business affects art,” Casale says. “We’re in step with these times and affected by them along with everybody else. We thought, ‘Let’s use the techniques of modern business.’

“Look, the music business has kind of imploded. The importance of a song or a record or an act, culturally, has shifted. It’s less important than it was,” he continues. “Music is taken much less seriously than it was the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s. There’s so much music, so much of it is free, what makes anybody even care that Devo put out a new record? How do they even know? Marketing.”

But wouldn’t it be at least a little difficult for a band that’s always followed its idiosyncrasies, even if it led them off of a creative cliff, to accept outside input on its art all of sudden?

“See, that became the art. That’s what I’m saying,” Casale explains. “We don’t really have anything left to prove. We weren’t trying to protect some sacred core.”

This breeds an off-the-cuff feel to “Something,” as Devo sounds particularly invigorated on the disc, firing off electro pop stompers like “Don’t Shoot,” which rides as oscillating synth line and a whip-cracking beat, and or adrenalized buzz bomb “What We Do.”

“What we do is what we do,” Devo frontman Mark Mothersbaugh sings on the latter tune. “It’s all the same. Ain’t nothin’ new.”

In conversation, Casale seems to echo that sentiment.

The times might have changed — for better or for worse, that’s a never-ending debate — but these dudes, per their custom, haven’t followed suit.

“I get the same creative and mental satisfaction as I did back then in terms of having a voice in the marketplace,” Casale says of what Devo means to him these days as opposed to what the band did in the beginning. “But I probably get less sex.”

Maybe that’ll catch up with him on the band’s current tour.

Casale laughs.

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

Contact reporter Jason Bracelin at jbracelin@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0476.