Dan Deacon – Village Underground, London 14/02/13

“I know what you’re thinking – ‘what kind of cheesy, forced bullshit is he going to pull out for Valentine’s Day?’”, asks Dan Deacon after ‘Of The Mountains’, one of only two songs in tonight’s sold out gig devoid of some sort of magnificent gimmick (the other being ‘Baltihorse’, which kicked things off).

The answer is, of course, all the stops. Deacon has become perhaps the archetypal modern DIY musician; whilst his record sales remain only slightly higher than humble, his ability to pull in a crowd anywhere in the world is beyond doubt. Just his name being added to a festival bill is enough to cause friends of mine to fly hundreds of miles and spend hundreds of pounds to ensure they’re part of the experience. And although tonight’s show has been moved back a day, meaning it now falls on the feast of St. Valentine, his appeal is so widely infectious that the crowd seem to think a gig of his might be an entirely appropriate way to spend such an amorous evening. The gender split is for once pretty much even, and those here with their partners are acting just as loved-up as those here in the hope of finding one. And it’s a good place to go, if that’s what you’re after; such is the convivial nature of a Dan Deacon show, by the end of the gig, everyone here has – even if only fleetingly – met everyone else at some point.

Like some kind of electro-punk barn dance, there’s so much else going during a night with Dan Deacon that we could fill our required text quota without so much as mentioning the actual music. So let’s address that straight away. Dan doesn’t need all the audience participation crap. If he were to play these songs (many tonight lifted from his more expansive 2012 LP America) with a straight face, we’d still have smiles on ours. They’re excellent, distinctive, highly imaginative pieces of electronically-laden alternative rock that display as much elegance as they do comedy, and in a way it’s a shame they seem to be somewhat secondary in the minds of people attending his gig tonight. Folks are, by in large, here for the silly stuff, when mid set numbers like ‘Crash Jam’ and ‘Lots’ are clearly of the utmost musical intelligence.

But so communal is the atmosphere, and so integral to the show are the en-mass choreographed dances, that only a total curmudgeon would skulk off to the back and decide to sit them out. Dan Deacon asks very nicely, so I do what I’m told; be that becoming one of the hundreds of people who patiently sit down whilst four or so singletons dance in the middle of the room, egged on by their fellow attendees to strike up a Valentines romance; downloading a bloody impressive free iPhone app that reacts by flashing bright colours perfectly in time to Dan’s ever playful music whilst I wave it in the air like a loon; or taking part in a conga line that goes all the way out of Village Underground, round the outside and back in the front entrance (and includes everyone in attendance), at one point leaving only his two drummers in the venue whilst we all dance outside.

When we re-emerge from our al fresco disco, the air is one of jubilation. Those who were at the front are now the ones at the back, but nobody seems at all bothered by the enforced displacement; strangers are hugging strangers, lovers are kissing, and grown men are throwing each other in the air like Russian gymnasts. The fact that this is all happening to a ten minute long, often almost ambient number in three movements called ‘USA I, II & IV’ shows you why exactly Dan favours prioritising the audience participation aspect to his shows. It’s an approach I imagine annoys as many musos as it does conclusively win over casual fans of his records but perhaps Dan just prefers playing gigs to highly enthused rooms full of the latter. You can certainly see why he might.