Monday, March 3, 2008
Dengue Fever
Dengue Fever may have re-popularized the music of long-lost '60s Cambodian-pop singers Sinn Sisamouth and Ros Sereysothea, but during the group's performance at the Black Cat on Saturday night it unintentionally inspired the resurgence of a less beloved mid-century relic: the Batusi.
Inspired by a stack of old cassettes purchased during a trip to Cambodia, keyboardist Ethan Holtzman formed Dengue Fever in Los Angeles in 2001 with his brother, guitarist Zac Holtzman. The group later recruited vocalist Chhom Nimol -- a Cambodian-born wedding singer -- after hearing her perform at a Long Beach nightclub called the Dragon House. Bolstering the band's retro vibe by sporting a silver go-go dress and hoop earrings, Nimol led the group through a sharp set of psychedelic-tinged Southeast Asian pop that inspired more than a few men and women in the audience to unabashedly swing their arms like Adam West.
Largely sung in the Khmer language, trippy highlights like "Seeing Hands" set Nimol's high-pitched voice atop a woozy bed of Ennio Morr icone guitar riffs and girl-group rhythm while Zac Holtzman and towering bassist Senon Williams leapt up and down, pogoing dangerously close to the club's ceiling.
English-language songs like "Sober Driver" revealed Dengue's surprising sense of humor. Nimol and Holtzman reveled in such hooks as "I'm getting tired of being treated as just a free ride/I finally figured out that you're just a thorn in my side" -- which is admittedly silly -- but not nearly as silly as watching somebody dancing the Batusi.
-- Aaron Leitko
Maceo Parker
If you don't get up and start moving at a Maceo Parker concert, better check your pulse. The former James Brown sideman is one of the funkiest sax players around, and at 65 still sets crowds on fire every time he picks up his horn. An early pioneer of funk, he's gone on to play with artists from Prince to Ani DiFranco, and on Saturday night at the State Theatre in Falls Church he showed the sold-out crowd what this music looks like in the 21st century: grown-up and sophisticated, but still as dirty, sexy and hard-driving as it ever was.
And from the opening tune, "Funky Fiesta," things didn't let up for the next three hours. Drawing from his latest disc, "Roots and Grooves," Parker and his eight-piece band turned in torqued-up versions of songs like "Off the Hook" and "Uptown Up." Some worked better than others (did we really need to hear manager Natasha Maddison recite Hamlet's soliloquy during "To Be or Not to Be"?), but Parker kept the mix interesting by throwing in bluesy ballads and even channeling Ray Charles (perfect down to the Ray-Bans) in "Georgia on My Mind."
Parker's sax playing was the star of the evening; searing, punchy, it wove in and out of the groove with confident ease, never taking no for an answer. But his singing was nearly as good -- he's got a serious, lived-in voice and knows how to use it. And while Parker may not have James Brown's moves (hey -- who does?), he's a natural showman, dancing through the show and tossing in a few of Brown's shouts and yelps and even the occasional, "Good God!"
It was a stunning performance, and Parker's band -- with turn-on-a-dime playing and searing solos -- deserves a lot of the credit.
Bassist Rodney "Skeet" Curtis and Jamal Thomas on drums laid down unstoppable rhythms, with Will Boulware and Bruno Speight filling things out on keyboards and on guitar. The horn section, featuring Dennis Rollins on trombone (with a quick guest appearance by former Parker trombonist Greg Boyer) and Ron Tooley on trumpet were brilliant, and Parker's son Corey, singing backup, showed he has the chops to build a career that could rival his father's.
-- Stephen Brookes
Tim Miller
Reinterpreting Broadway musicals into a gay coming-of-age story, performance artist Tim Miller took the appreciative audience at Dance Place on a bold journey Saturday night. The solo performance piece, "Us," was an in-your-face bigot-bashing rant by Miller, a member of the "NEA Four" -- artists whose federal funding was revoked during an infamous battle in the 1990s over controversial art.
Toting a suitcase full of album covers wrapped in an American flag, Miller proceeded to unpack the plight of being a gay couple in this country. (In a few months, the visa of his Australian partner of 14 years runs out and, because there is no federal recognition of gay unions, the two will be forced to leave in order to remain together.) As Miller tossed the album covers onto the stage, they were transformed into steppingstones toward freedom for gay adolescents. " 'Cabaret' helped me expand my fashion sense," quipped Miller. "I then cobbled together my Liza Minnelli outfit." Breathless, he laughingly recited synopses of a dozen musical story lines, giving them all hilarious gay and politically left interpretations -- " 'Fiddler on the Roof' is all ab out gay marriage. Well, at least the consistent expansion of the definition of marriage!"
While the satire and serious commentary on the lack of civil rights for gay and lesbian Americans were ingeniously woven together, the staging and delivery were somewhat monotonous. Miller's vocal tone at times ranged from whining to shrill with no aural relief from the litany of descriptions and injustices. Although he is known for physicality in his work, "Us" lacked body and spatial dynamism, and at times it reverted into a podium speech.
In a tribute to Gypsy Rose Lee and as an advocate of "stripping away the lies and hypocrisy" in our nation's laws, Miller pulled off a coup with the finale. In a slow and perfunctory striptease he ended the show naked and asked:
"When is it going to be our turn?"
Tim Miller performs the same program March 15 and 16 at the Baltimore Theatre Project.
-- Barbara Allen
Natural Black
Reggae shows almost always start late. If the flier says the concert starts at midnight, tack on an hour. Or two hours. Just don't think of 12 a.m. as the start of anything but a new day.
Saturday night (a.k.a. Sunday morning) at Zanzibar, a Guyanese-themed reggae showcase kicked off at 1:30 a.m. -- 90 minutes later than advertised -- with opening artist Redemption. But headliner Natural Black didn't hit the stage until 2:36 a.m., giving him just 24 minutes before the house lights went on and his mike was shut off. Natural Black was hampered by another frequent occurrence at reggae concerts: a singer crooning to backing tracks, not a live band, giving the gig a high-grade-karaoke feel.
Middle act First Born, backed by the Entourage band -- yes, actual musicians -- brought its five-part harmonies to a number of roots-reggae songs that touched on the usual themes (Jah, weed, self-pride) while also sending many shout-outs to Guyana. This is a talented group of singers, and considering this was just the second concert First Born and Entourage have performed together, it was a solid set.
But it was a letdown when Natural Black had to rush through his otherwise great roots-meets-dancehall cultural songs, none of which he fully finished. When host Tony Carr came onstage to wrap things up, Natural Black said, "Rasta nah done." He charged through the 11th and final fraction of a song, but that was it. The crowd wasn't happy, and several patois cuss words were shouted into the early morning air.
-- Christopher Porter
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