Dan Deacon, Fabric, London

Who would have thought the main room of Fabric would ever play host to the absurdist electro of Dan Deacon? Due to technical problems on the opening night of the new East London venue XOYO the day before, Upset The Rhythm was forced to move Deacon’s show to the unlikely setting of the illustrious club.

As I arrive the support act Sewn Leather is on (and sometimes off) stage, spewing out electro punk with the help of a tape deck, sequencer and microphone. His performance is interesting but becomes a little predictable by the end. It is also quite wearing being pummeled by the volume of the sound system. It’s bearable on a normal Fabric night but for both Sewn Leather and Dan Deacon the sound is pushed to ear bleeding levels and the only escape is purchasing a £4 bottle of Becks at the bar.

It’s been over a year since Dan Deacon was last in London, then with a backing troupe of Wham City musicians. Now, on his own and with his trademark setup of assorted electronic equipment on a shaky table with a trippy green strobe skull rising out of the crowd, he seems delighted to be in the UK again.

His fans are just as pleased to have him back as well. From the first bar of technicolored bleeps and beats everyone is jumping around with cheshire cat grins. All the lighting comes from the bulbs positioned on and around Deacon’s table, which sits precariously in the crowd in front of the stage. He puts just as much effort into flicking between the lights to sync the colours with the music. 3D glasses blue and reds, fluorescent greens and bright white beams reach up to those who have climbed on stage or moved to the balcony to get a better view.

There are a few breaks in the set. The first to clear room for a dance-off for those who want to bust out some moves. Of course it’s all a bit silly watching the hipsters jump in and make fools of themselves but then you look around see just how much fun everyone is having and it’s difficult to be cynical. Dan Deacon is a children’s entertainer for an apathetic generation plagued with irony. His music isn’t made for a bunch of bloggers to write about but to make you look like a tit while you dance around, and to be the soundtrack to an absurd yet throughly enjoyable night out.

After some more chaotic songs he pauses again. This time to get the crowd to form a tunnel by joining their raised hands with the stranger facing them. As more people run through the tunnel and then join it, it snakes around the sound desk, past the bar and all the way back to the stage. This must be a first in Fabric’s history.

The night is ridiculous, the music is played so loud it starts to distort and the crowd would dance to whatever Deacon plays, but you’re guaranteed to leave with smile on your face.