The Cambodian pop stylings of Dengue Fever.

| 16 Feb 2015 | 06:25

    A six-piece L.A. ensemble with an expansive worldview, Denque Fever draws heavily on the jazzier side of popular Cambodian music from the 1960s. They also delve into the smoky realms of Ethiopian jazz from roughly the same time period, and reflect the American surf and psychedelic trends that informed Cambodian pop.

    The band formed after Farfisa organist Ethan Holtzman experienced a revelation in the back of a taxicab in Cambodia as his travel companion was struck with dengue fever, a common tropical illness spread by mosquitoes. As the story goes, the radio was on in the taxi, and Holtzman realized at that moment that he needed to start a band that used Cambodian music as its template.

    After returning to L.A., he enlisted his brother Zac, who'd been living in San Francisco and playing in Dieselhead for about a decade. Together, the pair searched the Khmer community of Little Phnom Penh in nearby Long Beach. (Khmer is synonymous with "Cambodian." Little Phnom Penh, according to Zac, is home to the largest concentration of Cambodians outside of Cambodia.) After watching a number of singers, their search eventually led to the Dragon House nightclub, where they discovered vocalist Chhom Nimol. "She's the one," thought Zac. The brothers didn't know it at the time, but Nimol was already famous throughout the worldwide Cambodian diaspora.

    While the band's component parts ask for overanalysis, it's the self-titled debut album that will speak ultimately for the band. Recently released by Mr. Bungle guitarist Trey Spruance on his Mimicry label, Dengue Fever consists mostly of covers of Cambodian pop standards. From the opening strains of "Lost in Laos," the listener is transported not only to another place, but another time as well. American audiences will recognize the familiar jazz basis in the arrangements, but the expression of Asian and North African ingredients will no doubt sound exotic to most ears.

    Nimol sings exclusively in her native language, Khmer. (She has lived in the U.S. for less than two years.) Though somewhat experimental, the band adheres closely to the pop idiom popularized in Cambodia in the 60s (before Khmer Rouge leader Pol Pot executed nearly all pop musicians as a way of purging the country of Western influence). Part of what makes Dengue Fever compelling is that they are re-interpreting someone else's interpretation of American music.

    If their choice of musical styles seems somewhat unusual, Zac explains that, at least as far as he's concerned, the jazz sounds from Ethiopia and Cambodia fit together naturally. Nimol, he says, responded to the heavy groove foundation in Ethiopian jazz because she loves dance music. The band references this music most obviously on "Ethanopium," a cover tune, but traces bubble up throughout the other songs as well?the Holtzmans, sax player David Ralike, bassist Senon Williams and drummer Paul Smith all share an affinity for Ethiopian jazz. No doubt this adds an element of exoticism for Nimol as well.

    "They call it jazz," he explains, "but try to find the jazz?it's not like be-bop or cool or, like, free." He pauses, at a loss to describe the music. Then he starts to sing lines into the phone. When that doesn't get the point across, he just says, "You should check it out."

    He highly recommends the Ethiopiques compilation series from the Buda Musique label.

    On the album, Dengue Fever creates just the right aura of drama, enhanced by the authentic approach. The songs sound like they're being performed in a dance hall or cocktail lounge?the natural setting in which you're likely to encounter music such as this. Proponents of music as a "universal language" will find substantiation in Nimol's singing, as it's obvious from her aching tone that she's spinning tales of longing and love. Meanwhile, the band provides a bouncy backdrop for her dour affectations.

    That the music is so evocative of a particular time period is both a blessing and a curse. It's too easy to dismiss this stuff as period-piece soundtrack fare. The temporal exoticism is likely to attract listeners, but it is just as likely to confine Dengue Fever to novelty status if those same listeners are attracted by superficial aspects. Which would be a shame. Dengue Fever's music is fun and easy to bop to. It also works well when you want to just kick back. Yet another example of musical cross-pollination at work.