10.08.2022 by Mathis Neuhaus

Dekmantel Festival—Where Do We Go from Here?

“Since its inception in 2013, Dekmantel Festival tries to break out of the gradually monotonous festival scene by running first-rate line-ups and productions,” informs the Amsterdam-based festival’s homepage confidently. Mathis Neuhaus was on site for the 2022 edition to find out if the Dutch organization was able to put the money where their mouth is.

I’ve been visiting the Netherlands on a regular basis for many years now. Growing up close to the Dutch border, the country has always been an appealing destination for short trips and longer vacations. For close to ten years, due to dear friends who live in Amsterdam, the “Venice of the North” (which makes Venice the “Amsterdam of the South”, I guess) has been a city I regularly visited. In my early 20s, nightlife became more important and I will probably never forget stepping into Trouw for the first time in 2012: On a gray Sunday, Prins Thomas was playing his spaced-out House, one of Meuus van Dis’s iconic neon tube configurations was gently pulsating under the ceiling, and the club felt like the place to be. A professional environment that still provided the freedom you’d expect from a proper spot. Many nights, days, nights, and days followed—and once the club’s closing came around at the end of 2014, I was as bummed as anyone.

As sad as Trouw’s closing was, Amsterdam’s scene always ran deep: Both new temporary and permanent concepts filled the gap quickly, Dekmantel Festival being one of them. In 2013, after having thrown indoor club events for six years already, the crew took it outside for the first time, setting up camp in Amsterdamse Bos, which remained their playing field up until this day. I had visited the festival for the first time in 2015, and returned every year since, so naturally I was excited for this year’s edition. After a two-year hiatus, the organizers pulled out all stops and presented a slightly zealous, but also very tasteful and balanced line-up of all the important names in contemporary (electronic) music: Two days of concerts in the city, with acts like Tirzah, Space Afrika [see zweikommasieben #23], Carmen Villain, SKY H1 & Mika Oki, KMRU, or Loraine James, were followed, as usual, by a full-on rave in the woods. At the latter and across eight stages, almost any musical taste was catered to, no matter the preference for tempo, intensity, or rhythm.

On Wednesday, at Muziekgebouw aan ‘t IJ, a state-of-the-art concert venue a stone’s throw away from Amsterdam’s central station, upsammy [see zweikommasieben #18] initiated the eighth edition of the festival. Her live set was accompanied with visuals by the multidisciplinary artist Sjoed Martens. Time and time again, I am impressed by the young artist’s dedication to her sonic palette: always surprising, but instantly recognizable, her live set is as crystalline as her DJ-sets are, sitting comfortably between IDM, ambient, and ASMR-adjacent sonic topologies. I sank deeper into my seat and enjoyed whatever she and Sjoerd Martens threw my way. After that, Gaussian Curve, consisting of Amsterdam’s own Young Marco, Gigi Masin, and Johnny Nash, packed out the room for their first concert in years, before harpist Mary Lattimore closed the night with a celestial performance. Out of all the instruments, the harp is one of the more other-worldly, appearing ancient and futuristic alike, and Lattimore’s command of the instrument was stunning. In-between songs, Lattimore bantered with the audience and shouted-out the Dutch Harp Festival in Utrecht, which must be, according to her, a lovely event. For the final stretch of her concert, she invited guitarist Neil Halstead to the stage, with whom she worked on Silver Ladders, her latest LP on Ghostly.

On Thursday, the concert program and venues were more extensive: next to Muziekgebouw, the night clubs Shelter and Parallel were thrown in the mix, with artists like Loraine James, John Beltran, or Eris Drew performing in their natural habitat. I still felt most comfortable sitting down, listening attentively to Marina Herlop, who put out her recent LP Pripyat via Pan in May. Accompanied by three other musicians, the conservatory trained composer, vocalist, and pianist, presented a live set that was chaotic and controlled alike: elegantly maneuvering even the most-demanding passages of her already-demanding music. After that, I took the ferry to the other side of the river for Erika de Casier’s performance at Parallel, which was everything I wanted it to be. The Copenhagen-based musician is as good live as she is on her records: I was enjoying the gently shuffling beats, the ballads, and the relaxed mood in the room. I ended the night back at Muziekgebouw, where Ana Roxanne gave a performance late in the evening which was humble and confident alike, and one of the best I have seen all weekend long. A guitar, some effects, and her voice came together in spell-binding manner, unhurried and bold. Naturally, I also went out to party on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, and highlights were the super group Sangre Nueva, consisting of DJ Florentino, DJ Python and Kelman Duran [see zweikommasieben #20], Mama Snake, upsammy (again), Parrish Smith [see zweikommasieben #16], Oko DJ & Jasmín, Oceanic, Evian Christ [see zweikommasieben #3], Batu, and Call Super [see zweikommasieben #9]. Reviewing a rave seems a little strange to me, so this is as detailed as it’s going to get.

Looking back on my time in Amsterdam and at the festival, I am pressed to find things to critique. Dekmantel is a big endeavor and this year the festival was bigger than it has ever been. The festival wants to operate at the intersection of appealing to a global audience that’s willing to travel far and wide for a party, and amplifying the local scene. Clearly, plenty of money is made here, but it’s also rarely getting better than this in regards to experiencing cutting edge contemporary music, no matter if your thing is the dancefloor, the concert hall, or both. Dekmantel festival succeeds in bringing together a diverse array of high-quality performances; and if you move against the obvious big draws on the line-up, you’ll usually find yourself surrounded by people who seem to be there for all the right reasons. Personally, I am looking forward to finding out what’s next.