#bromst

[kickerofelves]

Red F — Dan Deacon

[prospectstimmer]

[autoneurotic]

been around this road so many times feel like it’s skin is part of mine, this taste of milk is almost gone, still got my shame but not for long! been wrong so many times before but never quite like this…

[name204act]

Dan Deacon and 13 Piece Ensemble - Troubadour WeHo 04.22.09 - Crowd Activities

New Post has been published on https://awesome-people.newonline.help/dan-deacon-and-13-piece-ensemble-troubadour-weho-04-22-09-crowd-activities/

Dan Deacon and 13 Piece Ensemble - Troubadour WeHo 04.22.09 - Crowd Activities

Clip 3 – Dan Deacon @ The Troubadour in WeHo 04.22.09 The audience participation was so funny and awesome. He had the entire venue captivated, doing “the wave” with finger snaps, parting the crowd to facilitate a dance-off, and as shown in this video had people making human tunnels so others could snake through them in a giant trail. The whole place was having a blast. Likes: 0 Viewed: source

[30000songs]

#396 - Bromst - Dan Deacon

The art school hits the dance floor. Not his most experimental work, but probably his most solid, though it could annoy the shit out of you.

82/100

[futuresickk]

[Dan Deacon - Snookered]

[not-music]

Woof Woof by Dan Deacon from Bromst (2009)

Beast Antelope grazed the fields today Beast Lion eats fat and flesh away Least little bugs clean the bones and say Without us a price you'd all Pay

Be real slow like a glue Feast with the hawks and let the hawks feast you A little piece, a little beast Clean a little teeth with the tiny little cream priest

I feel low But now i know that soon go How and when's what I don't know When it comes i hope that I'll still glow

Some bees are better off left alone Some bees feel better off in the throne Some bees are friendly like you and me Some bees are lazy

Dnuorgyalp elttil ynit a nur sgniht elttil esehT ,tsaef a ta noil ,tsaeb elttiL .hguorht nur s'traeh eht tub seye eht tog llitS .uoy ekil I ,ris yllaer ,stsaeB

!yap annog er'uoy ecirp eht s'taht woN Yas dna daor eht naelc sgub elttil tsaeL' Yawa hself dna taf stae noiL tsaeB Yadot sdleif eht dezarg epoletnA tsaeB

Some bees are better off left alone Some bees feel better off in the throne Some bees are friendly like you and me Some bees are lazy

Please go wild Let your skin free Hold your head up Beasts the big see See the stone glow Let the mold grow Move in deeper Go where they won't

[humblefalconer-blog]

HARMONEERING 3——Dan Deacon, “Bromst” •

Sometimes migraines can be day enders. Sometimes they lead to naps. Naps are great. Dreaming when napping is great. Sometimes I dream about odd shapes and people, and wonderful colors that spin and collapse into sound. Bromst is like that kind of dream. The kind of dream that has you sweating profusely, drenching your recently washed bed linens, launching you upright in the middle of the night sort of feverishly and you awake, finding yourself folding dirty laundry from your laundry basket, stacking it neatly on the bed, humming gently to yourself incoherent melodies that more than make sense to you in your dreamland stupor. The kind of dream that answers the profound questions of existence in ironic ways, but you can’t initially trust the advice because it appeared to you in a dream and who the hell did Sigmund Freud think he was anyway, so you contemplate the vision in the back of your mind for hours upon end, sleeping and waking to the thought of it and then one day you impulsively buy a one way ticket to the Ivory Coast and it feels like crack-cocaine, the same sort of high you received when you still bought drugs from your ex-girlfriend, and you don’t tell your neighbors where you’re going, leaving the living room lamp glowing like a sentinel in the dark, paying your bills months in advance so no one knows to search for your body, which will eventually wash up on the shore of a small coastal town, and the investigators suspect no struggle upon examination and later declare your death an “accident”, although it was no accident because you truly sought out an end to all your troubles, and you sang a sad tune all the way to the bottom of the ocean until the melody turned optimistic, like the way you feel encountering an ex-lover and seeing her smile you at in that way again, and all of a sudden your home in the deafness of bliss for one moment more before the sea water fills your lungs and the agony almost sets you free and you acknowledge your place in the world for the time and all of a sudden with the definitiveness of a rapidly closing door toward a flickering candle atop a mantle you’re gone in a smolder, never to speak an unkind word again. And there’s peace in it, because for whatever reason we were never supposed to hold fast to this life and before your breath gives out you realize this, though maybe there is a bit of regret still inside of you for letting it go, but you do so anyway to reveal a brightness so vibrant it cleanses the whole of you and you need not want any longer.