Gang Gang Dance's 2006 CMJ performance at Webster Hall remains an unexpectedly transcendent moment. I'd seen the quartet a dozen times before (and in various forms since), but something about Lizzie Bougatsos, decked out in a Ghostface Killah tee, leading the boys through a real-time percussive collage in front of a half-filled room seemed like the weird promise of this avant crew eventually filling a big club without compromising one iota. A certain charismatic command of the stage, yea, but also the density and liveliness of the sound eking into every corner, jamming shit into the gaps that existed between the spread out, diffident crowd.
GGD's most recent full-length, God's Money, has improved over the two years since it was released, but all we've gotten in its wake are teasers: First came the 30-minute collaged Hillulah, the soundtrack-in-a-soundtrack of gorilla-happy Retina Riddim CD/DVD, and now RAWWAR, a three-song EP that taps out just over 20 minutes. The two earlier pieces had their joys, but of all these mini-discs, RAWWAR's the most satisfying.
Straight outta the gate, hot-stepping opener and regular live staple "Nicoman" is GGD in pop mode, a taut rhythm with a crystalline core. A few minutes in Bougatsos' vocal intonation practically sounds like M.I.A., but she surfs the percussion in a more soul-nodding way, tapping a different sort of avant-pop tribalism. "Nicoman" is followed by the new wave-y instrumental "Oxygen-Riddim Demo"-- the synth is so tinny, you can feel it blowing back someone's feathered hair (though, high school students should adopt it for proms everywhere). The track builds to GGD's signature Kabuki-style notation atop drum clicks and drags. After moving into a catchy patch of Junior Boys-like 4 a.m. pop, the song ends with a few seconds of sampled rain.
Closer "The Earthquake That Frees Prisoners" could've taken a turn for the worse with its Godspeed-style sampled-voice-against-dramatic-backdrop thing, but the voice here is Nathan Maddox, an early member of GGD who died after being struck by lightning on a NYC rooftop. So take a step back to that rain at the end of "Oxygen-Riddim Demo" and now listen to his voice as he mentions "rooftops," as well as dust, terror, anxiety, pain, and...well, this suddenly is a lot more moving than your usual faux-cinematic narrative. Opening with a Bougatsos wail, the montage moves to a more anthemic place-- the band is all systems go for 11 minutes as it celebrates its ghosts.
