there is a mountain of snow, up past the big glen...

Dan Deacon. The one innocently-named artist I would never think to share with any of my friends -- at least the ones I want to maintain a semblance of a relationship with. His music isn't necessarily abrasive; it's just that it's "batshit-crazy pop music" as I've seen it described. Sadly, that's probably the best and most apt description for his brand of songs. From earlier release Spiderman Of The Rings to 2009's Bromst, Dan Deacon has kept his class of glitchy, impossibly-catchy electronic music going, and has even managed to reach a world audience larger than the ones he entertains in his native Baltimore. His up-close-and-personal shows should come as no surprise -- any idea that Dan Deacon is the least bit sane is smashed as soon as you listen to any one of his tracks.

Looped samples of cymbals crashing, piano hits literally too fast for a human to play, chipmunk-y voice filters, fantastical lyrics, droning synthesizers, Casio-centric effects and a whole gamut of other noises, sounds and beats proliferate Deacon's work. This is definitely the kind of stuff you have to be in the right state of mind to listen to; if you're having a bad day, this isn't going to cheer you up. On the other hand, if your day is going inexplicably wrong, and you're largely confused as to how it all turned out, then you may find a bit of salvation in these songs. Nothing seems to make sense, whether it's a three-minute burst of energy, or an 11-minute rendition of nursery-rhyme-like fantasy like the tune featured below: (accompanying lyrics here, cause heaven knows I needed them to figure out what was being said)

Dan Deacon - "Wham City"

As mentioned though, those I hold dear can barely stand my electronic music choices as is, and they're a relatively pedestrian outcropping when compared to even Deacon's least-abrasive content. Over the Christmas holidays, I thought I'd throw on "Wet Wings," a slow-building and almost tribal-sounding track bubbling with emotive female voices layering themselves a capella over each other, but alas, I was shot down when my sister asked "what the hell is this? turn it off" and my mother commented that it sounded like women mourning at a funeral. 

Was it really that bad? No. Was it really that weird? Yes. And that's probably the biggest reason I can't share my Dan Deacon tunes: he's just too weird. Unfortunately, being blessed with the ability to make catchy, crazy pop music out of anything and everything is a bigger detriment than you'd think.