Sampling — Dan Deacon

DAN DEACON
BROMST
Carpark Records, 2009

By Nick McGregor

Back in the ‘90s, genres like electronica, house, drum ‘n’ bass, and ambient noise wallowed in their own specialized mire of underground niche popularity. But in the past decade, electronic music has infiltrated everything from rock to punk to pop to hip-hop, steadily ascending the ranks of mainstream recognition to the point where every “next big thing” seems to have electro- in its title. Performers and bands like Girl Talk, Animal Collective, and M83 dominate the blogosphere, yet 27-year-old Baltimore composer Dan Deacon stands out from the pack due to his conservatory background (he studied electro-acoustic composition at Purchase College), his wildly experimental bent, and his crowd-friendly live concerts.

And therein lies the Dan Deacon paradox. How can this bearded, bespectacled hipster produce challenging, tonally complex, mostly six-minute-plus electronic compositions that bear no resemblance to traditional music while still inspiring millions of scenester kids to dance their asses off?

Deacon’s 2009 album Bromst has earned the electro-composer his highest praise yet, with reviewers lauding the record’s physical power, beat-driven intricacy, and celebratory majesty. Opener “Build Voice” does all that, erecting the noisy, festive structure of sounds to come with layered, moody chants, fluttering pianos, and rumbling drums climaxing in a loose, organic ambiance. And that symbolizes the main difference between Deacon’s latest offering and its 2007 predecessor Spiderman of the Rings – instead of strictly electronic instrumentation, Bromst mixes in live recordings of player pianos, marimba, vibraphone, and horns. “Red F” races along on bloopy synths and chiptune beats, while “Paddling Ghost” blissfully combines cartoonish vocal samples with a ringing glockenspiel riff. And the hazy dreaminess of “Snookered” feels overwhelmingly gleeful, especially as the mallet-heavy percussion builds to a frenzied pinnacle.

Stumbles occur, like the hallucinatory female voices on “Wet Wings” and the grating trill of closer “Get Older,” but those few-and-far-between moments are erased by the buzzing, leathery pleasure of “Woof Woof,” the hallucinatory resonance of “Baltihorse,” and the rock ‘n’ roll spirit of guitar-driven tracks like “Surprise Stefani” and “Slow With Horns/Run For Your Life.”

Deacon’s press release for Bromst promotes his efforts organizing the local Baltimore music scene (founding an art collective, running a sold-out DIY festival, and curating a 60-person/30-band mega-tour). But it’s through his magnificent concoction of dance-pop, techno noise, and spine-tingling experimentation that Deacon creates his best work. If electronic music is slowly edging onto your iPod and working its way into your life, let Bromst’s wild sheets of sonic melody burrow into your brain. Afterwards, it’ll be easy to understand why Dan Deacon’s famously frenetic live shows are considered a can’t-miss experience in the music world.