The artists showcase their roots in a new collaboration built on “brown girl rage”  

By Amna Saeed

Futuristic cyber-girl Angelphroot and folksy, heart-on-sleeve Dameer don’t seem the likeliest combination, but in the Toronto underground rave scene, anything can happen. While some may call it chance, Desi ravers are well aware of what it takes for the two to tango. Angelphroot and Dameer’s dynamic duo derives from an inherent connection — their identities as South Asian artists carving out space for others who don’t fit the mould — which saturates their music and finds itself as a pertinent theme in their latest collaboration on a powerful new song, “Teri Manu.”

Angelphroot is an experimental, genre-defying DJ with a budding skillset in producing, while also side-gigging as a film student at Toronto Metropolitan University. Fully immersed in all parts of the Toronto underground music scene, she’s also made her way into a burgeoning band called Our Palms Are Stitched Together. 

“We haven’t performed any shows or anything yet but I write music with them,” she explains. Although the band’s shoegaze sound strays from the techno noise that many have come to know Angelphroot for, she reveals the genre resonates with her on a deeper level over the EDM she mixes during her sets. The band is a unique outlet for her to express herself lyrically and poetically. 

Angelphroot’s experience as an alternative Indian woman, with multiple narratives boxing her in, has driven her to become a part of Toronto’s underground rave scene. She details seeing her friend Chippy Nonstop, another iconic local South Asian artist, explaining how she helped her find acceptance in rave culture. 

“She was beautiful and she was so confident. She would come to the DIY rave in pink sparkly sequin dresses. We’re under a bridge [and she has] her hair done, her makeup done, lashes on.” 

Angelphroot narrates her realization that rave culture included everyone, from the glamorous stand-outs, like her friend Chippy, to those who show up in pyjamas.

“They’ll make a narrative about it,” she says. 

Her first performance at Sari Not Sari was notably a lesson for her, both as an artist and as someone with a growing interest in rave culture. She was understandably anxious before the show and though most of it went well, she says there were some hiccups during a part of her set. 

“But the crowd was so forgiving,” adds Angelphroot, swelling her positive feelings about the Toronto rave scene. Angelphroot discusses a side of raves distinct from their party-based interpretations and it’s a side that offers acceptance to those craving an open, community-centered connection. “I started going to raves and I feel like maybe I made an association too with music and the rave being an escape and a safe place for me…it was more like it found me and I had no choice.” 

Though neither Angelphroot nor Dameer have had any classical musical training, South Asian influences still cut clear through their work. Angelphroot’s love for spotlighting the works of obscure South Asian artists is obvious, as she includes their songs in her sets whenever the opportunity arises during a show. Dameer has released a few songs in Bangla and more subtly exhibits distinguished Bengali notes in self-produced songs such as “Gimme All of Your Love.” 

A recent graduate of McGill University with a degree in economics and political science, Dameer chose to defy expectations and pursue a career solely as a singer-songwriter. However, like Angelphroot, he’s also branching out into composing music for a variety of purposes, such as creating film scores or music for partnerships. Though the guitar was his first love and favourite instrument, it isn’t the focal point of his songs; instead, his primary interest is in creating hyperpop. 

“Lately, I’ve been into more futuristic stuff… we’re in a post-SOPHIE, post-Charli Xcx, post-PC music, post-Umru, post-Iglooghost… we’re in a ‘post,’” says Dameer.

Dameer’s interest resides in a more futuristic tone for his music and is inspired both by recent upheaval in his native country, Bangladesh and his views on contemporary music. The quota reform movement in Bangladesh pushed Dameer towards a more uplifting, hopeful musical direction. He expresses, “Music in general is in a very soulless spot right now,” further discussing his belief that current mainstream music lacks soulful, spiritual or experimental influences. 

Perhaps this inclination towards each other’s specialty is what brought the two artists together to work on a new unreleased single titled “Teri Manu,” a track named in consideration of its exploration of female rage. “Teri Manu” is a vulgar insult in Punjabi, roughly translating to “your mom” or in other interpretations, “motherfucker.” With one repeated namesake lyric throughout, it relies on the meaning behind the Punjabi phrase and its production to emphasize the disruption that the track means to achieve.

“I want this to be fun and freeing and ridiculous and also just kind of like a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who are trying to put their standards of acceptability onto brown girls right now,” says Angelphroot. 

Angelphroot’s bold approach to creating this song is certainly something to be commended, as she discussed several of her ideas with me, all of which were thoughtful and well-articulated. The empowering message infused in this track moreso lies in its composition, which displays a curated blend of musical concepts.

The song’s creation can likely be attributed to Angelphroot’s vehement disavowal of assimilating, especially as an alternative woman. She asserts that she doesn’t “want to encourage anybody to assimilate at all,” starkly contrasting Dameer’s more laid-back approach of “POC to POC. I don’t care,” which rejects race-highlighting labels and finds them to be regressive.

Dameer has, in his words, “grown up a little bit” since his days at McGill University and his views have evolved to be more inclusive and uncaring.

“If you’re cool, if you know what’s up, I don’t care where you’re from. I don’t care what you do.”

The vast differences in their views on identity are likely due to the differences in their upbringing. Angelphroot, originally born in Mississauga, is firmly based in Toronto while Dameer, a Dhaka native, has moved to different places across the globe, such as Ghana and Malaysia, while still preserving the space to connect with his culture. The middle ground of their perspectives appears to be rooted in their collective desire to uproot South Asian music from its mainstream, one-genre space to include weird music. 

One thing is apparent – both Angelphroot and Dameer are wholly immersed in music and are willing to give it their all and they’re just as determined to evoke as much passion in their audiences. Angelphroot wants to encourage wonder and evoke curiosity through her music. She wants people to ask questions about each piece she puts out, whether as a single on Spotify or an impromptu mix during a set:

“What is that bass? How do they make that sound? That vocal — it’s reminding me of being a kid, sitting in front of the TV in the living room… Something is connecting. The pieces are coming together.” 

In contrast, Dameer wants to help people forget their problems for a while. “I like having that power in my hands.” 

Angelphroot and Dameer may have different approaches to breaking tradition, whether through Angelphroot’s hardcore persona or Dameer’s self-reliance during his musical process, but they have the same goal. Both artists’ aims are abundantly clear, best encapsulated by Dameer’s words.

“Please, can someone disrupt all this?”