Even among fans, Dan Deacon's 2007 electronic album Spiderman of the Rings is often pigeonholed—somewhat unfairly—as a record of non-stop manic goofiness. It's a forgivable misapprehension. First off, there's the title. Then there's ""Woody Woodpecker,"" a track built on looping the title character's laughter at different speeds, and the frenetic sound of the album itself, derived largely from circuit-bending—re-wiring and altering audio equipment to produce different effects.
All of these are good things, but they might lead one to forget the album's deeper moments, such as the 12-minute centerpiece ""Wham City""—a chaotic, gorgeous take on the end of human civilization which continually builds from muted percussion to ever-higher climaxes.
Going further down the path indicated by that ambitious track, Deacon's follow-up, Bromst, differs from its predecessor in prizing the celebratory and sublime over insanity.
Yet the difference is still more of a subtle adjustment than a sea change. The overall energy level on Bromst still approaches meltdown, but the album's dynamic highs and lows are handled with a greater sense of craft, making for songs that are more varied, complex and affecting than those on Spiderman without losing any of the earlier album's frenzied excitement.
Advance reports about Bromst made much of Deacon's decision to broaden his pallette to include more live instrumentation. At most points, the newly added drums, pianos and brass blend seamlessly into the album's purposefully overstimulating aesthetic, adding extra weight to upbeat party tracks like ""Red F"" and ""Paddling Ghost."" On other occasions, most markedly the excellent ""Slow With Horns / Run For Your Life"" and ""Of The Mountains,"" the live instrumentation helps to anchor slower, more atmospheric songs, a favorable contrast to the slight downtempo moments on Spiderman.
The complexity on Bromst seems like a conscious goal for Deacon (a conservatory-trained composer)—the last couple minutes of ""Surprise Stefani,"" with its several tracks of pitched percussion, sound like nothing so much as minimalist classical music.
However, the album is simply too much fun to worry about getting lost in the twists and turns of a song like ""Woof Woof"" ($20 says the high-pitched opening sample is a haywire dog toy). On the excessively detailed closer, ""Get Older,"" getting lost seems like part of the point, with a pack of synthesizers all racing ahead in different patterns and pushing the tempo relentlessly—the track perfectly caps off the album. Standing as a microcosm for Bromst as a whole, it's packed with a wealth of detail rare for any kind of pop music, but never loses its simple sense of awe and joy.
