Türkçe
Sat 2 May – Dan Deacon
Going to see Dan Deacon and his ensemble performing at the Triple Rock Social Club in Minneapolis, I had serious doubts as to how all 14 people would fit on that little stage. The Triple Rock is not a big place. Even the opener, Teeth Mountain, had some trouble fitting everyone, and they were only 7 people. But sure enough, they were able to get everyone their own little square foot of standing room and managed to use that small space to its maximum. Dan of course had his table o'obsolete technology set up, but he'd injured his shoulder the night before, so he decided to stay out of the dancefloor for his own safety and perch himself high above on the stage. Of course it wasn't that high above; the stage is only about a foot and a half off the floor. I had the privilege of standing at about forearm's length from his table so I got to witness both Teeth Mountain and The Ensemble in their full glory. Of course this was probably because I got there way too early and the bands got there an hour late in their vegetable-oil-powered purple 'n green coolbus. To everyone else who was standing around me: what was up with that guy who kept bugging Dan about whether he smokes or not? Can you say douche? I can do it. I will do it nine times. In my mind. But he was powerless against the awesome power of The Ensemble. His pleas for attention were soon drowned out by the band's sound check: improvised versions of the themes from "Friends" and "Cheers," which ended up sounding like some sort of avant-garde electronic composition with too much bass. There was too much bass the whole night. My knees were vibrating in my jeans.
Almost as soon as the sound check ended, the band broke into their opener, the pre-release song "Get Older," which possibly could be the song most responsible for the hype around Bromst. Before this happened many people were complaining that their skinny jeans and cardigans (and wayfarers) weren't keeping them warm enough in the air-conditioned nightmare that is the Triple Rock. But once the music started everyone found themselves in frenzied motion, and the resulting emanating body heat and moisture probably immediately brought the place up ten degrees. By the time "Red F" and "Paddling Ghost" were finished, everyone was really warmed up, both mentally and sweatily. And then, there was texting guy. Ahh, texting guy. Dan pointed him out. We all ended up raising our arms toward him, and resting them on the heads of those in front of us, as Dan delivered a sermon about the stupidity of guilt accompanied by the intro of "Snookered." I was genuinely surprised by how much of this song was not automated. It seems largely too complicated to perform entirely live, with all the vocal sample breakdowns and mallet parts happening at the same time. But, the drummer in front of me quelled these suspicions within my mind as he hammered on a drum pad in front of him and triggered the vocal sound effects we all know so well, as Dan sang the immediately-recognizable words of the song and was joined by near every Chuck-Taylor-sporting teen in attendance.
As "Woof Woof" rolled around, we were beckoned by Mr. Deacon to have a "fancy dance" competition. We scrunched ourselves into the far left and right sides of the room and Dan explained the rules. Two people have to go to the top of the stairs leading down to the dancefloor, bow to each other, dance down together, find another partner and start over again. Pretty soon the hole was filled back up again with dancing hipstery goodness and Kate Levitt led us all in chanting "woof! woof!" (This song is about dogs.) Then, there was "Baltihorse," which ended up lasting about 15 minutes because of Dan's omnipresent practice of creating a human gauntlet. Ours went all the way out of the Triple Rock's doors and onto the sidewalk, and by the time that it started collapsing and people started going back into the club, I could scarcely hold my arms up anymore, but it was worth it to see that the song was still being played when we got back. Even when Dan was alone with the band he never stopped playing. With the order of the crowd reversed, I was now in the back of everyone but it did not stop me from enjoying the old classics "The Crystal Cat" and "Silence Like The Wind." There were even a few crowd surfers.
Welcome to Hipstersota, Dan Deacon. Enjoy your stay.
P.S. did Dan smell bad to anyone else or was I the only one who noticed
Going to see Dan Deacon and his ensemble performing at the Triple Rock Social Club in Minneapolis, I had serious doubts as to how all 14 people would fit on that little stage. The Triple Rock is not a big place. Even the opener, Teeth Mountain, had some trouble fitting everyone, and they were only 7 people. But sure enough, they were able to get everyone their own little square foot of standing room and managed to use that small space to its maximum. Dan of course had his table o'obsolete technology set up, but he'd injured his shoulder the night before, so he decided to stay out of the dancefloor for his own safety and perch himself high above on the stage. Of course it wasn't that high above; the stage is only about a foot and a half off the floor. I had the privilege of standing at about forearm's length from his table so I got to witness both Teeth Mountain and The Ensemble in their full glory. Of course this was probably because I got there way too early and the bands got there an hour late in their vegetable-oil-powered purple 'n green coolbus. To everyone else who was standing around me: what was up with that guy who kept bugging Dan about whether he smokes or not? Can you say douche? I can do it. I will do it nine times. In my mind. But he was powerless against the awesome power of The Ensemble. His pleas for attention were soon drowned out by the band's sound check: improvised versions of the themes from "Friends" and "Cheers," which ended up sounding like some sort of avant-garde electronic composition with too much bass. There was too much bass the whole night. My knees were vibrating in my jeans.
Almost as soon as the sound check ended, the band broke into their opener, the pre-release song "Get Older," which possibly could be the song most responsible for the hype around Bromst. Before this happened many people were complaining that their skinny jeans and cardigans (and wayfarers) weren't keeping them warm enough in the air-conditioned nightmare that is the Triple Rock. But once the music started everyone found themselves in frenzied motion, and the resulting emanating body heat and moisture probably immediately brought the place up ten degrees. By the time "Red F" and "Paddling Ghost" were finished, everyone was really warmed up, both mentally and sweatily. And then, there was texting guy. Ahh, texting guy. Dan pointed him out. We all ended up raising our arms toward him, and resting them on the heads of those in front of us, as Dan delivered a sermon about the stupidity of guilt accompanied by the intro of "Snookered." I was genuinely surprised by how much of this song was not automated. It seems largely too complicated to perform entirely live, with all the vocal sample breakdowns and mallet parts happening at the same time. But, the drummer in front of me quelled these suspicions within my mind as he hammered on a drum pad in front of him and triggered the vocal sound effects we all know so well, as Dan sang the immediately-recognizable words of the song and was joined by near every Chuck-Taylor-sporting teen in attendance.
As "Woof Woof" rolled around, we were beckoned by Mr. Deacon to have a "fancy dance" competition. We scrunched ourselves into the far left and right sides of the room and Dan explained the rules. Two people have to go to the top of the stairs leading down to the dancefloor, bow to each other, dance down together, find another partner and start over again. Pretty soon the hole was filled back up again with dancing hipstery goodness and Kate Levitt led us all in chanting "woof! woof!" (This song is about dogs.) Then, there was "Baltihorse," which ended up lasting about 15 minutes because of Dan's omnipresent practice of creating a human gauntlet. Ours went all the way out of the Triple Rock's doors and onto the sidewalk, and by the time that it started collapsing and people started going back into the club, I could scarcely hold my arms up anymore, but it was worth it to see that the song was still being played when we got back. Even when Dan was alone with the band he never stopped playing. With the order of the crowd reversed, I was now in the back of everyone but it did not stop me from enjoying the old classics "The Crystal Cat" and "Silence Like The Wind." There were even a few crowd surfers.
Welcome to Hipstersota, Dan Deacon. Enjoy your stay.
P.S. did Dan smell bad to anyone else or was I the only one who noticed
