http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/news/50918-dan-deacon-spills-the-beans-about-new-album Dan Deacon is tired of being called "wacky." Sure, his last record, Spiderman of the Rings, sounded at times like an army of Woody Woodpeckers took speed and decided to form a band inspired by the taste of Skittles, but the Baltimore musician/multimedia collaborator/scene magnet is already distancing himself from that image. He describes his new album, Bromst, which is due on Carpark this fall, as "much darker," "mature," and "organic."
In a recent email interview with Pitchfork, Deacon deconstructed the making of Bromst in detail, explained how his growing fanbase impacts his writing, revealed his new version of Peter Pan, and talked about meeting "Chocolate Rain" crooner/viral video sensation Tay Zonday. Plus he used the phrase, "rubbing our hippie dicks on the freedom flowers."
Pitchfork: How has recording for the new album been going?
Dan Deacon: I think it's going amazing, but it's been consuming and draining. Due to my really tight schedules, I need to finish it in a really short period of time so that it can come out this year. It's a much darker album in tone, and elements of the story have been really weighing down on me. Not to say it isn't a positive record, but it's just more balanced in emotional range than Spiderman of the Rings.
The people I'm working with on the recording are very skilled and practiced at what they do, and it's bringing elements to my music that haven't been present before. The album focuses very heavily on percussion. Most of the pieces contain two or more drum kits, with a large mallet section of marimba, xylophone, glockenspiel, and vibraphone. I also returned to using samples mixed with electronics. I wanted a more overall organic timbre for this album. My last record was very much synthetic, and that was the point. A wider scope of sound sources then just my pedals and synthesis was the timbral goal of this album.
The pieces are a lot more intense and mature on Bromst than on Spiderman of the Rings. I think anyone who's been to one of my shows lately and heard the new stuff live would agree. When I was writing and recording SMOTR I was playing small house parties out of shitty amps or busted PAs, basically whatever I could get my hands on. So when I was writing songs I had to keep that in mind, making sure I worked within the parameters of my performance limitations. After that record came out, I started playing to larger crowds with much better PA systems. This allowed me to start working with a denser, more percussion-based pallet, again pushing the PAs as far as they could go, but this time filling them with as much space as possible with a fuller, richer sound.
As a result, my approach to writing changed. Not to say they aren't dance songs, but they are more about mass movement rather than dancing at a party. They are more developed, focused pieces. Sort of like a culmination of my past few years of noise-based pop songs. There are still tracks that I think are the party-type jammers I'm associated with, but there are also a lot more tracks that are great for relaxing or just listening to. I think the music on Ultimate Reality [DVD/tour collaboration with Jimmy Joe Roche] is a good bridge between Spiderman of the Rings and Bromst.
Another aspect of the shows getting larger was that it changed the atmosphere of what was happening and how the audience and I interfaced. The show is now very focused on interaction between strangers, large group activities, and other social games, as well as dancing and freaking out. I get a lot of reviews stating the show has a religious or cult-type feel at times. This new album falls in line with that idea.
When it came time to record the album, I knew it wouldn't make sense if it was just another album of electronics, MIDI, and voice. So much of what I had written was for real instruments, not taking the time to realize the parts live would have just been lazy. At first I was worried about how the live performance would sit with the heavily quantized backing computer tracks. If it was off at all, it would take away rather than add.
But the players and producer did an amazing job. Kevin O'Meara of Videohippos and his father, Rich O'Meara, perform all the mallets. Rich is an amazing composer and performer with an extensive background in new music for percussion. Jeremy Hyman of Ponytail and I supply the rest of the drums (90% Jeremy, I suck at the drums). Chester Gwazda, an old friend who has a recording studio in his station wagon, recorded all the sessions. He drives around the country recording bands for room and board. Without him, Kevin, and Rich, this record would never be.
Pitchfork: What is your relationship with the word "wacky"?
DD: I remember reading a They Might Be Giants interview when one of them said if they could never hear the word "quirky" ever again they would be happy. I know exactly how they feel (plus or minus 20 years). When a single element of your music is the only thing exploited by the press, it's maddening. I think a lot of writers have a hard time dealing with music that is serious in nature but contains absurdity, humor, or has a causal nature to it, especially if it isn't being made by model-esque youth. Obviously I have elements of humor in a lot of songs, titles, and at my shows. However, when "wacky" is the main word used to describe my music, it fucking kills me. So much of the music ISN'T wacky but gets overlooked because it's easier to mention a looping cartoon sample or a silly t-shirt then to mention the interplay between two sine waves. It's really effortless for the media to latch onto the childlike aspect of some pieces and label them as wacky or "simple," which is fine. But there is a large difference between absurd and "wacky."
And getting pigeonholed sucks shit. Words like "wacky" or "quirky" are different than a band being called emo or indie or new wave or hardcore. While those words also describe the attitude and nature of band, to me, those words aren't as destructive or at times condescending. "Wacky" quickly turns into "goof ball," into "man-child," into "stupid," which turns into a public that doesn't take the music seriously.
About eight years ago, when I first started writing music in this style, it was important for me to write music that was both simple and complex at the same time. Esotericism and pretension were (and still are) my archenemies. The goal was to create work that could be fun to listen to and dance to at a party but that wasn't stuffy or sleazy or sexual or like "dance" music. It was written to play at noise shows where people who were just listening to harsh noise would get up and dance. It's hard to present that attitude without being lumped into a bunch of people who don't take what they do seriously or are just based on novelty.
Pitchfork: What's the story behind the album's title?
DD: I wanted a title that helped to convey the percussive nature of the album, something concise and to-the-point. Most of my records have long titles (A Green Cobra Is Awesome Vs. the Sun, Spiderman of the Rings, etc.). I didn't want it to be a real word or something with a pre-existing meaning behind it. Bromst and Bronst have been floating around in my head for a while, and I would often use words to describe dense drum patterns or sick rolls. I guess ultimately I just like how it sounds.
Oh, I guess I should explain Bronst. Bronst will be a sister collection of songs to Bromst. I'm not sure how or when I am going to release it, but that's the plan. It will be made without any computers, all live instruments and live electronics recorded to tape.
Pitchfork: Going back to what you were saying about crowd size, do you have any plans for changing up your live show?
DD: One thing I've noticed about most large venues is that even at legal capacity they have a ton of leftover space due to fire codes. The thing I enjoy most about playing in a really large space and large crowd is using all of that space and trying to shift the focus of the performance from the stage area to the center or back of the room. Recontextualization of a performance space has always been a major part of my desire to play shows. The way a home becomes a venue, a venue can be transformed into something new as well. The combination of audience size and the venue layout can yield a great deal of outcomes.
As long as the crowds don't become too rowdy or violent, I'm excited for the audience to grow. In 2009, my live performance is going to change drastically. I've been saying that for a while, but I'd like to tour the new album with an ensemble to play the parts live. As the audiences grow, the performance needs to grow or evolve with it. For people who have been going to my shows for years, I think it's time to change it up. Not to say I'll never play on the floor again, but I want to try out some new things and drift away from playing to backing tracks. Humans are good.
Around the time of Bromst's release, I'll distribute the scores to all the pieces so people can learn how to play them. The goal of this is to add local players who know the parts to the ensemble when I tour.
Pitchfork: You always seem to have tons of other random stuff going on, so what's new on the collaboration/one-off front?
DD: I've been working on a new play/musical version of Peter Pan. Wham City has a history of theatrical productions. (We started out doing Beauty and the Beast and most recently put on Jurassic Park.) It's pretty much done. All the music is written, and the staging and rough blocking is ready enough for rehearsals but my lead, Josh Kelberman (Santa Dads), just started a walk to Mexico from Baltimore, so I'm going to wait until next summer to see if he comes back before I recast it.
A while ago I started working on a piece for 10 guitars that I'd like to finish. Other than that, Jimmy [Joe Roche] and I are working on a follow up to Ultimate Reality, and Butt Stomach should hopefully be recording our first record this summer. Butt Stomach is a band made up of Kevin O'Meara and myself. Basically, it's a sloppy mess of heavy drums and live electronics. While it's a lot heavier and noisier than either of our main projects, we take a very casual (never practice) approach. Playing along with the recorded tracks in Dan Deacon and Video Hippos really wears on us after a while. There's no room for tempo change, "jamming," etc. For both of us, this band was an escape from that. We have a few songs where we loosely play along to tracks, but we want to be free spirits, rubbing our hippie dicks on the freedom flowers. The last show we did was all improv and I think the best we've played in a while. Kevin's a great musician, and it's really fun to play with him. Recording this summer should be fun. Hopefully it won't suck.
Pitchfork: What are the plans for "Silence Like the Wind" at this point? Will it end up on the new record? Still be a single?
DD: It's going to remain a single. It just doesn't fit with the rest of the record. I might put it on an EP I plan on releasing a few months after Bromst comes out of material that I still like but that doesn't fit the story/tone of the other pieces.
Pitchfork: What is Tay Zonday like? Is he for real?
DD: I only met him for a brief moment, and he seemed pretty surreal. Like someone whose idea lapped itself into a new reality that one can never escape. I wish he toured small clubs and tried to build a real fan base. I think a lot of people really liked his music and not the novelty. That Dr. Pepper shit fucked him.
Home 
FAQ 
Search 
Memberlist 
Register 
Log in 
Subject: New Dan Deacon Album 
Thu Aug 14, 2008 6:10 pm
you.
