Dan Deacon

“Bromst,” the second full-length, commercially distributed album by Dan Deacon, should come with a Surgeon General’s Warning. Deacon’s noisy arrangements are sure to cause headaches, blow out eardrums, and send true indie-electronic fans into a blissful state of sensory overload.

This bundle of noise is, surprisingly, the Baltimore-based musician’s most accessible album to date. After six years and numerous independently-released records, Deacon appears to have realized that a few tracks with vocals and clear pop melodies can increase an album’s popularity—even hipsters enjoy the occasional sing-along session. Like Deacon’s previous work, “Bromst” is still primarily instrumentally driven, but his sound has evolved into something catchier, lighter, and ultimately more inviting.

“Build Voice,” the album’s opener, begins with a grating, repetitive drone which eventually becomes the backbone of the entire track. After your ears adjust to the initial irritation, however, it somehow morphs into an undeniably musical sound. The same drone is no longer unsettling noise but an oscillation between two notes with a clear, pounding rhythm driving the music forward. The sound is no longer the drone of bees or an overcrowded city street, but of horns, drums, keyboards, and a true composer.

Much of the album evokes the same reaction as the opening track. Songs begin with a noise that shocks you out of your comfort zone, causes your body to twitch a bit in response to such strong dissonance, and forces your hand to resist the urge to press next. Even if the songs aren’t initially easy on the eardrums, they are curious and compelling in their unraveling. None of Deacon’s tracks stands still for too long. They either escalate into an explosion of energy or abruptly change course, always keeping the listener on the edge of his seat. This anticipation inevitably elicits a strong reaction—whether you love or hate a Deacon song, you can be sure you feel something when listening to it.

Not all of “Bromst,” however, inspires some mix of either uncomfortable or appreciative emotions. There are a few tracks on the album that are exceptions to the “irritating yet intriguing” rule. “Wet Wings,” which begins within an a capella canon of whiny female voices saying “D-Day is passed and gone,” never leaves the realm of “irritating” and simply dissolves into an incoherent mess of vocal sound, leaving us to wonder if the introduction of vocals was really such a great idea. Others, such as “Slow With Horns / Run for Your Life” and “Surprise Stefani,” skip the initial, unsettling irritation and open with an already pleasant, natural-sounding progression of identifiable instruments and chords.

While this album may be generally formulaic in its chaotic buildup of sound, it is apparent that Deacon knows quite well how successful his formula is. He has come to embrace a more mainstream pop aesthetic, which ultimately serves him well, but his sound remains decidedly irreverent, keeping him true to his roots. This balance ensures that “Bromst” marks Deacon’s successful shift towards more conventional techniques without any resulting loss of artistic integrity.