Going old school

Jesse Hall and Shoko Horikawa of Experimental Dental School are their own toughest critics. After the frenzied shuffle-pop of 2008’s Jane Doe Loves Me, the two are ready to shed some layers when it comes to their forthcoming record.

“I’d have five guitar tracks [on Jane Doe] all playing different things,” says lead singer and guitarist Hall. “I listen back and really can’t make out a single one of them. If you take out one, all the sudden, that one is huge.”

After several incarnations in Oakland, Calif., the band moved to Portland as a two-piece, eager to lay down a new record and strip their sound of more than just band members.

“I think there tends to be like ADD,” Horikawa says of the band’s earlier songs, “playing the same thing for two measures and it’s like ‘this is way too long.’ Now we’re trying to stick with the part that is really good and play it longer.”

Jane Doe Loves Me, for all its restlessness with form and impatience with the tradition of buildup and payoff, is nevertheless engaging, energetic and even danceable. Some songs might occasionally suffer from a lack of compositional focus, however, and the shadow of Stereolab seems to loom over each of their melodic choices. Hearing them describe their approach to new material, one gets the feeling they’re turning a new creative page.

“Our main goal on this record was to be as simple as possible,” Hall says. “I think the downside of Jane Doe would be over complexity. In graphic design you have white space, and I think that’s a really important skill in songwriting [as well].”

Utilizing white space, the elimination of unnecessary elements to reveal only the essential, is an interesting approach for a band whose melodic attention span usually falls somewhere between The Fiery Furnaces and Deerhoof.

However, if their latest shows are any evidence, their new record won’t be any less raucous or noise-laden, as they incorporate more than just vocals, guitar and drums.

“One thing that we’ve done as a two-piece is try and play everything live,” Hall says. “I’ll use the sampler with random music on it and volume it in so that the musical noise becomes an instrument that creates spontaneity. I call it random foot noise.”

When it comes to their new record, the two are looking for change in more than their creative process, but in their approach to distribution as well. When they’ve finished mixing the tracks, every song will be available for free download on their Web site starting March 15.

“I’ve always wanted to do that and now it’s become common, somehow my mind has been opened,” Hall says. “That barrier between people having your music, the $10 barrier, disappears. It’s nice to make money playing music but it’s nicer for people to have the music.”

Somewhere in the process of relocating to Portland and reducing the cast of band members, the dynamics of Experimental Dental School suddenly seem redefined. It’s a new record and in some ways a new incarnation of the band, and these two are as excited as ever.

“There’s no buildup, there’s no sending [the record] to promotion companies,” Hall says. “Maybe we’ll be totally bummed by the results, but maybe not. When you really don’t care that’s the best place to be.”