Audio Remasterer: AJ Quashie.

Photographers: Frank Hamilton; Brett Richardson.

Dan Deacon's wild and wooly electronica album, SPIDERMAN OF THE RINGS, was one of the most intriguing releases of 2007. With its quirky humor, knowing cultural references, and spastic sonic leaps, it was also something of a defining statement of purpose. But if Deacon was staking his ground with SPIDERMAN, he has built a magnificent, multi-tiered castle on that foundation with 2009's BROMST.

More accessible than its predecessor, BROMST is still visionary, melding melody and noise with postmodern panache. Deacon raises the bar by expanding his instrumental palette: the album balances vocals and acoustic instrumentation (including marimba, piano, and live percussion) with his trademark digital hijinks. The result is a majestic listening experience that often borders on the utopian.

From the first few minutes of Bromst, Dan Deacon's second Carpark full-length, it appears he may be going back to his university days at SUNY-Purchase, where he studied electro-acoustic composition. A slow-building track, naturally called "Build Voice," it repeats his vocal sample over and over with plenty of reverb -- an avant-garde piece, for sure. Still, it's only an introduction, and Bromst unfurls as an extravaganza of noise-pop that looks, not to the dance field, but to the slowly burgeoning indie rock fetish of voices, either in harmony or in chorus (think of Animal Collective, Fleet Foxes). Fans of Deacon's work won't necessarily be excited to hear that he's moving closer to blog favorites of the late 2000s, but his production and arranging skills illustrate that he's a powerful force no matter what the format. Although it's just as frenetic as his breakthrough, 2007's Spiderman of the Rings, there's also the sense that Deacon is pulling back from Spiderman's cartoonish mayhem; there are more pauses for breath, more experimentalism on display (and consequently, less mashing of breakbeats and signal processors), and a few meditative songs. Midway through the album, the seven-minute "Snookered" spends its first half quietly sublime before gradually intensifying into the insistent type of cut-up Deacon's made his reputation on. Maturity can be dangerous to your artistic health, but Bromst shows the right way to mature -- broaden your vision while still spending plenty of time on what you do best. ~ John Bush