In terms of a musical genre, the label 'experimental' is a pretty safe one. Safe in the sense that it lets a band get away with anything, and offers them a chance to hone their style in front of an audience, not just in their rehearsal space. Sometimes this can go disastrously wrong onstage, but the band is always left secure in their experimental bubble. That bubble only saved two of the three bands boasting that label Friday night at Dante’s.
Headliners Dengue Fever were free from questioning of their genre, however, because they’ve got more definition to their sound than that. Their brand of Cambodian pop is a very distinct one, layered with surf sounds and saxophone and bits of rock ‘n’ roll, and it flows from one different song to the next with style and grace. This could be due to the powerful pipes of Cambodian-born lead singer Chhom Nimol, who gorgeously transforms the Khmer language with each note she drops on the crowd.
The night started off with DJ Anjali and The Incredible Kid, who took turns spinning an entrancing mix of Bollywood beats before and between each set. Local boys NIAYH were the first band to take the stage, and they proceeded to set fire to the venue with their very-much experimental tunes. This six-piece truly is something to behold, both for their looks and sounds. They had come to the stage straight off their bus, Wally, which was parked next to Dante’s with the band’s acronym spelled out along its sides: Now Is All You Have. To be honest, I’d never heard these guys before, and their name, alone, left me thinking I was about to bear witness to an overly Bohemian set.
But it ended up being quite a bit more than that. I’m not sure their music could ever be easily categorized, especially because it seems every instrument they use tries to create its own genre. Jazzy saxophone is backed by metal guitar, complemented with jungle groove drumming. Add youthful vocals, chugging bass and steady snare drum beats and you’ve got a pretty inspiring jam. During the show, I even questioned if they knew what they were doing, and the answer is that it doesn’t matter, because their music continuously rolls with danceable rhythm.
Props to the saxophonist for the strong cascade of notes he played during one of the more slowed-down tunes, and then for following it with a screaming of notes that could barely be heard over the hodgepodge of sounds the rest of the band was creating. Every musician in the group stoked the fire with impressive skills, and did it with obvious passion. I wish I could better relay the tone they set with their music, but it really is something you’ve got to see to understand – imagine the complexity of Mars Volta, mixed with a jazz soul backbeat.
Maus Haus followed the electrifying openers with something that confused and bored me for most of their set. There was not one, but three keyboards on the stage with them, played by four of the band members throughout the set, and it just added to the realization Maus Haus tries too hard to be something they’re not. Often the players would crazily wring their bodies around and under the keyboards, as if they were trying to evoke an indie-kind of dance that would better explain how awesome their music was, but it was about as successful as their music was. Sure, there were a few songs that worked, like when the bass was prominent, or when the singers would powerfully harmonize and the music would take on a Beach Boys feel, but too much of the band’s music came off sounding incoherently strange.
Also disorienting was their photographer, who frequently popped onto the tiny stage to take pictures and fiddle with her camera. There was just too much going on, both with the band’s sound and action. I don’t want to say their music is terrible, because I’ve learned through their recorded work that it’s actually pretty good, but their live show featured too much synthesizer and schizophrenic melody. At least it was a set sandwiched between two outstanding acts this night.
One of the first noticeably awesome attributes to the Dengue Fever sextet was the camaraderie they displayed. They never stopped genuinely smiling at each other, and the result seemed to be in how their beats so perfectly complemented each other, regardless of how different they were from each other. At times the instrumentation would strongly march into sped-up delirium, and it would burst into a irresistible, psychedelic groove that had them all swaying to the beat. Other songs felt like a clash of beach rhythms and Asian horror flicks, and they were delivered beautifully.
Again, Nimol’s voice was likely the cause of this. Not knowing the English translation of what she was singing failed to be much of a problem, because she would twist her voice in such a beautiful, haunting and emotional way that it told a story all its own. Never did her high shrieks pierce the crowd painfully, because those vocal howls were a gorgeous kind of thing I'd never heard before. There were a few songs in which she sang English lyrics, but this detracted from the mysterious splendor of her foreign words. It was during these tunes that Nimol and the band sounded a bit like Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings, with a Cambodian twist.
She frequently lamented that she was nervous onstage, but never once showed it. Nimol and the rest of Dengue Fever have zero reason to be unsure of their abilities, because they’ve already nicely established themselves as one of the most successful of their genre, exhibiting astonishing talent. Added to the exploratory sounds of all bands present, this Portland showing was mostly fantastic. It’s refreshing to see that the idea of ‘experimental’ can be applied to music so effectively, and enticingly.
