Maximo Park – AmeliasMagazine

When I heard Gang Gang Dance were to grace us with their presence at Cargo this Wednesday I let out a high-pitched puppy like yelp. I apologise to my fellow passengers on the 29 bus but I’ve been waiting quite a while for this one. You see, Gang Gang Dance are responsible for one of my albums of the century, God’s Money, a musical offering so brilliant that within 5 minutes of listening I was ready to have their faces tattooed on my forehead. If you’re lucky enough to receive a copy, grab on and never let go.

Hailing from Brooklyn and working up quite a buzz in their hometown over the past few years, they’ve garnered a loyal following all the while remaining reassuringly underground. Commercial they aren’t and whilst to some it may just be a lot of indecipherable noise to others it all makes perfect aural sense. The crowd at Cargo seems to agree with the latter. So, after being entertained/confused by the one-man variety show that is the bespectacled Dan Deacon we were all sufficiently weirded out and ready to accept whatever came next.

The four-piece took to the stage, a quick hello from lead singer Liz Bougatsos (sporting an oversized Ghostface Killah t-shirt) and we’re off. Describing their sound isn’t easy, neo-tribal is thrown around rather a lot and to a certain extent it’s accurate. Firstly they aren’t particularly fond of ‘tracks’ in the traditional sense. Their set contained just 3 pauses, purely to give the group (and the audience) a chance to breath. Their music is very much a continual flow, with changes in pace throughout-hinting at drum n’ bass one minute and post punk noise the next, In essence it’s all a bit freeform. Vocals are of the primal variety, Liz’s voice as much an instrument as anything else, howling (but never screaming) admittedly I couldn’t make out a word but this was never going to be a good old sing along. However, above all it’s percussion that’s at the core of their sound, specifically heavy rhythmic drumbeats driving the music forward and dictating changes in speed and mood to great effect.

As you’d expect this works a treat live and prompted much head nodding and involuntary trance like swaying. The crowd couldn’t get enough, clapping and cheering for more once they finally left the stage. Return they did. However this was far from your normal encore. Guitarist Josh Diamond proceeded to offer the front row a variety of different instruments and suddenly we had a whole new line-up. Drums, vocals and guitar were now in the hands of the sweaty enthusiastic volunteers and with Liz at the helm they did a surprisingly good job. It was a nice touch, making the point that this wasn’t about being a pretentious ‘art-noise collective’ to name check at parties but just a group of people who enjoy experimenting with sound. Their skill isn’t so much in their obvious musical ability as their determination to try something new. Pretty simple really but it works an absolute treat.

Written by Lena Dystant on Monday August 13th, 2007 12:12 pm

Categories ,Album, ,Gang Gang Dance, ,Maximo Park, ,Review

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One thing is certain on listening to Swollen and Small; Viking Moses is utterly in love with Neutral Milk Hotel. He knows the songs inside out, for sale information pills upside down, and has grown up learning to play along with Jeff Mangum’s melancholic ponderings on life, the universe and everything.

This EP is a collection of four NMH covers, all played uniquely but strangely similar to the original tracks, with the emotion and devotion of a true disciple of the band he obviously so loves.

Having played with the rock stars of the alt-folk movement over the last five years (Devendra Banhart, Will Oldham, Cat Power), Moses has finally decided to do the self indulgent thing of strumming away his favourite songs for all to hear… And I’m damn happy that he did. It’s an interesting selection of songs he has decided to cover, three from the lesser known On Avery Island, and the dance floor filler Holland 1945 (from In the Aeroplane over the Sea), all of which are done justice.

Viking Moses has the same sort of off -beat, powerful and delicate voice as his idol and pulls off the long high drawn out notes in a wonderful, same-but-different manner from the originals. His rendition of Holland 1945 is truly spectacular, edging away from the rollicking, percussion driven original and opting for a quieter and all together gentler rendition which allows for the heartbreak of the lyrics to really come through.

It’s basically a one man and his guitar affair with occasional slide guitar and harmonica, percussion coming from the pounding of palm on guitar, working particularly well on Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone; a brilliant original and a worthy cover. As goes for the rest of the record.

This debut single from hotly-tipped Cardiff students Los Campesinos! suffers from the same problem as past efforts from the very similar Leeds band The Research and Bristol-based Kid Carpet. Namely, more about the whole thing reeks of a kind of contrived wackiness. I’m all for simple pop – The Ramones, shop for instance – but there’s simple pop and then there’s children’s music, and this – so sugary and kooky, veers towards the latter. And yes, the Americans say “math” – how amusing.

The press release for this EP not only offers the terrifying prospect of a “jazz flute” but also the use of something called a “shlang dan”. Thankfully, purchase the prospect of a muso jamming session – high on fannying about, viagra sale low on actual tunes – fails to materialise. That’s not to say, however, that Born Ruffians are particularly tuneful – they’re not. They play an ultimately frustrating kind of country rock reminiscent of Neil Young at his most MOR. What’s more, Luke LaLonde’s singing voice is so whiny it makes the vocals of infinitely annoying Clap Your Hands Say Yeah front man Alec Ounsworth sound like Johnny Cash.

If you weren’t sure with the term ‘neon done well’, pill this could have been your crash course. If you mix ‘indie’ and ‘rave’ apparently this is the uniform! Brilliant, price I got given three glow bracelets from an almost-nuclear guy at the bar. That’ll do nicely.

Amelia’s Magazine | Gang Gang Dance

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