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Spiderman of the Rings

by

Dan Deacon

 
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Spiderman of the Rings
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Avg: 3.5 (236 ratings)

Dan Deacon's noisy synth-pop earns its silliness and then some

  • We Say...

    Spiderman of the Rings opens with a four-minute treatise on why Dan Deacon should be committed. It follows with a four-minute treatise on why he should be sainted. Dan Deacon is one man from Baltimore and Dan Deacon sounds like an army; his thicket of wires and Casios is his flotilla, even if it looks like your local wild hobo’s mobile time machine.

    But where Deacon’s forbears — dead, ostensibly retarded Wesley Willis and nerd-king Atom and His Package — were as instant, cheap and reliable as a crotch shot, the noisy synth-pop on Spiderman of the Rings earns it silliness; it makes a statement out of it like Little Richard and Devo did. Dan Deacon is as serious as golf, it’s just that he's most expressive when he’s recycling a Ludacris verse and grinding it through a pitch-shifter. It’s obscenely hyperactive music, but like any gag worth a damn, it never feels like a gag without complexity or color. His most visceral tracks (“The Crystal Cat,” “Snake Mistakes”) are as delirious as Spike Jones, as textured as the tonal quilts of Yellow Magic Orchestra and Terry Riley.

    Nowhere are his powers higher than the 12 minutes of “Wham City,” the most reverent ode to a hometown since Television’s “Marquee Moon.” Ultimately, Deacon is a lover like Television were lovers. And Television had their way of loving: guitars stretching up toward night skies like gothic peaks; Tom Verlaine’s warble dishing out the purplest abstractions this side of high school. Deacon just has a different mode of making his presence truly felt; it strikes me that passion, conviction and a gaggle of freaks screaming to scare the rabid are pretty much the only things that could make Baltimore sound like the best city in the universe.

    And it’s Deacon’s conviction above all that makes Spiderman of the Rings almost impossible to refute, even if you find it almost incomprehensibly annoying. Plenty of people could program some blast beats into a cheap drum machine and do some kooky singing over them, but it takes more than kitsch appeal to pull a bunch of equipment out of the trash and make an album that, at least in its best moments, sounds like a world unto itself.

  • They Say...

    Part of Baltimore's growing Wham City collective, Dan Deacon wastes no time establishing his whimsical electronic music sensibilities on what is essentially his breakthrough, Spiderman of the Rings. The title alone perfectly captures his particular brand of hyperactive mad-dash electronica, which seems concerned simply with what sounds good in the moment as opposed to what might be part of a greater rationale; the music's madly impulsive sugar rush of cheap beats and mind-numbing tempos largely fails to leave any sort of lasting impression despite its temporary allure. The opener and strongest track, "Woody Woodpecker," delivers enough of an impact to encapsulate the shock-and-awe approach of nearly everything to follow, using its namesake's trademark cartoon laugh in an incessantly looped frenzy to lay a rhythmic foundation. The song's first half builds on that forward momentum, utilizing a blinding arsenal of sounds, cycling repeatedly into double time to create an overwhelming cacophony, which falls suddenly into a lull about halfway through -- only to rebuild once more on the back of shimmering synthesizers playing bubblegum chords. It's no wonder that Deacon's music is most successful in a live setting. This is pleasure music to freak out to, an in-your-face assault of sped up beats, manic vocals, and a disregard for subtlety which can often feel out of place coming through a home stereo as opposed to a high-power PA. That's not to say there's a lack of cohesion, however; on the contrary, everything feels very precise and well thought out, which is nowhere more evident than on the album's impressive 12-minute centerpiece, "Wham City." The piece carefully ebbs and flows between an abstract sound collage, a catchy, propulsive refrain, and finally, a stunning drum breakdown, propelled throughout by a resurfacing melodic vocal chant. In all, the first four numbers are strong and strike a winning balance and interplay with one another, with "Big Milk" well situated as Spiderman's only introspective respite from the breakneck pace heard elsewhere. Deacon's exuberance unfortunately becomes repetitive and overly-obnoxious a bit too often in the latter half of the album, which even at its abbreviated length of nine tracks drags on a bit too long. Spiderman of the Rings can be amusing ear candy just as easily as headache-inducing monotony; making this distinction depends on where and when it's played, and just how much uninhibited energy you can take in one dose.

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