John Bemis, Blogs Editor
@bemiscourant
When was the last time we saw a pop musician with authority? Not just with overbearing confidence, but the art to back it up? It’s hard to say. Since Prince, it’s been hard to identify a decent number of artists making undeniably ‘pop music’ with a shred of memorable creative thrust, with the kind of standalone artistic ingenuity that doesn’t rely on complex viral marketing, flamboyant fashion, or overblown gloats to acquire an eclectic appreciation. As this desert expands in the mainstream, a pleasant balance between sweet-and-catchy syrup and ear-catching sonic nuances may solely exist in the overlooked, such as Dan Deacon. Baltimore’s own has consistently maintained a happy medium of the abstract and immediately sensible, probably just as eager to go to an EDM festival as he would be to a Kraftwerk show. With albums under his belt such as 2012’s freshly surreal America, and 2007’s breakthrough Spiderman of the Rings, Dan Deacon indeed may have little left to prove. Yet, Gliss Riffer is proof that he is content with that, and shows Deacon doing exactly what his music has always embodied, having some unabashed fun.
Gliss Riffer is, for all intents and purposes, an electronic pop record. There are tracks that could be considered overwhelming, but none are ‘challenging’. Mind on Fire is sweetly dense, rainbows of synthesizers playfully bouncing off of one another while vocal samples and fluttering breakbeats coalesce on Learning to Relax. Digital collaging is no foreign concept where Deacon came from (Animal Collective were effectively his neighbors in Baltimore), yet it rarely comes across as shamelessly joyous and energetic as when he puts forth the effort. Electronics buzz and neons burst track after track, effectively delivering the awe-meets-elated feeling that good psychedelic pop should.
Structurally, two-thirds of the records run time are consumed by catchy themes and earworm hooks. Opening track Feel the Lightning operates on a recognizable progression with infinite major-key melodies swarming about as deacons vocoded vocals soar, “I’m having visions//infinite visions//of something new”. Such a sentiment exists in the LP as a whole, where a shift to such an instantly gratifying, perhaps more banal format sounds fresh and enjoyed. There is not a hint that Deacon is compromising anything.
Like America, Gliss Riffer is back-loaded with lengthier pieces. The three 6-minute-plus tracks that close the LP provide living evidence of Deacon’s art-music background. Take it to the Max is reminiscent of a modern Terry Riley, with electronic riffage that slowly builds to an arrhythmic psychedelic climax, balancing the hit-material raucous rave of Learning to Relax. Closing track Steely Blues offers a final declaration of musical ingenuity, a swirling tropicalia of breathing textures and bleeding keyboards that tops off a wholly inviting record with distinct obscurity.
If listeners and critics are going to lambaste Dan Deacon for putting out his most universally tangible effort thus far, they’ll have to consider his grand motive. Certainly he didn’t intend for Gliss Riffers to be his master opus, but rather another reason to love what Dan Deacon symbolizes, finding jocular creativity at a crossroads between the musically nuanced and the musically mass-consumed. Of course, due to it’s palatability, it comes across as ultimately less captivating than earlier work, but why patronize? Sounds so meticulously fleshed out and yet appetizing come to pop music only so often; it’s in everyone’s best interest to enjoy them.
Rating: 7.2
Check out Deacon’s recent concert at NPR’s Tiny Desk:
