October 1, 2009

Dan Deacon: A Genius, Among Many Other Things

A few months ago, Dan Deacon quickly started becoming one of my favorite musicians. At the same time, he was also becoming one of the most talked-about electronic musicians around, and with good reason. But while it’s been noted how good a composer Deacon is, and plenty has been said about how frenetic his music is, and that it’s “weird” and “wacky” (Deacon’s music is at times all these things), no one talks about how fucking beautiful it is. Granted, it’s not the kind of music my mother would call beautiful. But the more I listen to “Woody Woodpecker,” the more overwhelmed I am.

Deacon also gets a lot of attention for his live performances. He’s known for riotous live shows, playing in the middle of dance floors, leading his crowds in things like calisthenics and other group activities. Then, one Sunday night in August, I got to see him. Deacon played on a bill with Deerhunter and No Age, two bands I was interested in but knew very little about. The show was at the Logan Square Auditorium, a fairly big room consisting mostly of open floor space. The main stage was in the front of the room, but Deacon had of course set up his own stage down on the floor, against the right wall. As I arrived, most people were crowding around the main stage; I went straight for Deacon’s setup. His “stage” consisted of a small platform upon which he had set up a table, upon which were about a million electronics, most of which were used to distort his voice, and a lighting setup he described as “my little bullshit lights.” Behind the table was a large arrangement of speakers and amps; he also had several props on stage relating to titles of his songs, such as a green skull (“Trippy Green Skull”) and a large stuffed snake (“Snake Mistakes”).

There were three opening performers, each of which played a 20 minute set, and each of which were…ok. A full marching band then took the floor, and were really sweet. The audience (at this point completely filling the room) really began to get into it. The band turned out to be the What Cheer Marching Band from Providence, RI, and were also there as Dan Deacon’s backing band. They finished playing, and it was on.

Deerhunter, Dan Deacon, and No Age all took the stage at the same time (Deerhunter and No Age sharing the main stage, Deacon on his own). Throughout the night, they would alternate between mini-sets, one band playing a few songs and then taking a break while the other two played. No Age opened with the first mini-set, and then Deacon was up. For his first set, he performed alone, without his marching band. “Red F” kicked in, and man it was difficult to be there. Those of us up against the stage were holding onto Deacon’s table for dear life. After another song by Deacon, Deerhunter and No Age each played a mini-set, and then Deacon was up again. This time, he was joined on his tiny stage by the entire What Cheer Marching Band. Several members sat on Deacon’s pile of amps; others crowded around Deacon, and a few remained on the floor next to the stage. Deacon led them in a deafening rendition of “Woof Woof,” and again everyone went crazy. “Dan Deacon, you’re a genius,” said Deerhunter frontman Bradford Cox when the song was over, and they and No Age played a few more songs each.

Then things really got nuts.

Deacon instructed the audience to form a large circle in the center of the floor, and brought out one of the opening performers, Ed Schrader, to lead the crowd in an interpretive dance. “Everyone watch Ed; anything Ed does, you do,” Deacon instructed. “Every move Ed makes, you make.” The song began; Ed began dancing, and everyone in the room followed in the bizarre ritual. As the song began to pick up, the dancing got wilder, and the circle around Ed closed in further and further; eventually, the full mania of the song kicked in, and it was a free-for-all. As Deacon transitioned into “The Crystal Cat,” probably his best-known track, I got caught a few feet off from the stage, and if it was difficult to be up against the stage, it was damn near impossible to be in the swarm just behind it. This was also probably the most riotous moment of the show. It was a mass of bodies crashing into each other; one moment everyone was nearly falling over to the left, the next moment everyone was nearly falling over to the right. It was a violent, chaotic expression of pure joy.

After this madness, Deerhunter played a song, giving the audience a much-needed respite from the preceding insanity. People danced gently or swayed slightly to the music, depending on how tired they were. (I was swaying slightly.) No Age played a couple of songs. Dan Deacon passed out water bottles to the crowd.

Deacon then played one final set. His band left the stage once more, and he performed his epic “Wham City” by himself. “Wham City” is one of Deacon’s grandest statements, a marathon-length track that builds for several minutes to its climax, and it was a fitting conclusion to the grand statement Deacon had been making all night.

After this, Deacon went up to the main stage for one final song, performed by every member of the tour. But for me, this was more of an epilogue; the true finale was “Wham City.” This was Dan Deacon’s night. While I thoroughly enjoyed both Deerhunter and No Age, it has to be said that it’s just unfair for any band to have to share a bill with Dan Deacon. Something about his music, and his performance of it, is undeniable in its energy; everyone in the auditorium was brought to an elevated state by his music. It certainly seems to be Deacon’s goal to involve his audience in his music, for them to get lost in it and be part of it; on this night he robustly succeeded.