Something that is hardly remarked on when it comes to Peruvian, now Berlin-based, dance duo Dengue Dengue Dengue are their masks. These accessories, whether they be a pearly veil, streaming from under the rim of an ornate cloth cap, or surreal macrame visors that stare back at you with dozens of varicolored eyes, are undeniably striking- yet, rarely mentioned in the same breath as the group's music. I think this is in part because the band's members are attempting to hide behind them. Dengue x3 is transparently the work of producers Felipe Salmón and Rafael Pereira, who use the project to bring the vestiges of their hometown of Lima's folk music traditions to the modern dance floor- or in a post COVID world, whatever space you have between your futon and the TV that isn't otherwise occupied by a coffee table or dog bed.
So if Dengue x3 has nothing to conceal in terms of their identity, and clearly take a great deal of pride in where they come from, then what is the deal with the masks? The answer: misdirection. Now, what do I mean by that? Well, let's think about human psychology for a second. We're social animals. When you see a person's face, there is a tendency to focus on its features to decode some useful information about them- for example, what they are thinking and feeling, or what they're likely to do next. Until you get a feel for all this, you might be a little stand-offish and reticent to approach them. But the masks sever you from this feedback. You're not going to have the chance to interpret what the person wearing a mask may or may not be thinking; all you can do is pick up on is their vibe- and dance music is nothing if not about the vibe.
Therefore I have to conclude that the masks are there to help establish a certain level of intimacy with the audience, and I think this bears out on Dengue x3's latest album, Fiebre (Fever). The sound that the band are responsible for producing on this album are delivered with such fidelity you'd swear you are hearing group perform it in person, without the aid of electronics- Felipe and Rafael methodically taking up each instrument by hand, giving it a twist, a pat, or a strum, and then laying it right back where they found it before moving on to the next. This is impossible given the sequencing, but it's a sensation that is hard to argue with.
Despite being an electronic album, Fiebre has an incredibly warm and acoustic feel. It's like the duo are performing in a cozy, pocket universe that is wholly localized within the space of your speakers- drawing instruments and emotions down the gullet of a wormhole and into their orbit, and weaving order out of the swirling chaos that saturates the space around them as if they were operating an enormous cosmic loom.
The prancing gallop of the splashy "Menestra," the trancy clasp of the spiraling, doll-like pirouette of "Yacuruna," or even the scouring intrigue of the oaky "Cocha" with its sap-sucking, hunt and peck percussion, all feel so alive because the band is drawing from an intimate place to create them, and that familiarity is very easy to pick up on as a listener. Further, because such a meeting of the minds is happening in a way that defuses psychological defenses, it can't help but get around the usual social barriers. It's a pretty good sleight of hand Dengue x3 have performed on Fiebre. As it turns out the warmth you can feel radiating from these tracks is actually the duo's humanity permeating your own.
