Dan Deacon at the Middle East

Before the Middle East was launched into the belly of the Bromst, a couple of Wham City's finest took the stage to pump up the crowd. Ambient psych-rockers Teeth Mountain won over the crowd with a two-song set of tribal-drone ditties that sent members of the crowd into a hypnotized state of motionlessness... or perhaps that could have been the natural hipster in people. Electro-pop trio Future Islands took to the stage with a solid mix of synth-dance tunes and slow, bass-driven songs filled with lyrics of romantic longing. Frontman Sam Herring's grizzly warble gave the group a stage presence that most acts wish they could bottle up and save, and the set got many in the crowd to don their dancing shoes.

Though the opening acts played a couple of endearing sets, all that was forgotten come an hour to midnight. Dan Deacon may have taken the stage with his right arm in a sling, but nothing held him back last night. Joined with an army of Baltimore musicians dressed in white and armed with guitars, drums, and various electronic instruments, the stage was set for a night of excitement. Even before the show kicked off, a clan of hyperactive teenagers began to shake every fiber of their being during a rather typical soundcheck of just blasts of noise.

Clearly, the expectations were all there for the venerable party of the century. Fortunately, Dan Deacon delivered... well, something else. Once every last instrument was properly checked and every glowing green skull properly in order, Deacon instructed members of the audience to kneel to the ground, point out the self-conscious concert-goers not involved in the fun, and then kiss their palm and plant said palm on a neighbor. Obviously, not the usual part-ay (Bostonist has somehow blocked out all memories of similar parties).

Once the opening formalities ended, the band kicked in with "Get Older," the last track on Deacon's excellent new album, Bromst. If the album didn't dissuade critics of Deacon's ability to make serious music, then his performance certainly should; with a the presence of a full band performing every intricately-composed note pitch-perfect, the live set had an added depth of communal catharsis that can only come with an ensemble whose members are perfectly in synch with one another.

Throughout the set, Deacon made sure to challenge the business-as-usual atmosphere of a rock concert; he made folks caress others' heads, had a growing group of people run in a giant circle while giving high fives, and had concert-goers form a gauntlet that went out to Massachusetts Avenue and back through the club, and all to the tune of "Snookered" and "Baltihorse." Deacon did his best to upset the expectations of everyone at the show; even fans who had seen the man perform more than occasionally balked at pairing off with strangers for a Victorian-era-styled dance off, but ended up participating and enjoying it to boot.

Deacon's music and performance certainly were inspired and successful attempts to force people to look at people, places, and events (such as a concert) in an entirely different and new light, breaking the ritualization of rock shows and presenting people with a new, unique experience. It was an experience to behold, and though Bostonist had to prematurely exit the gauntlet and show to catch the last bus home, Deacon's message was certainly received: don't be afraid to do something, and enjoy it.