Pitchfork 77

On their first album in seven years, the New York fusionists tap into a welter of global styles; the result is soft-edged and idyllic, yet hides a subtle political undercurrent.

The Guardian 60

4AD

In 2008, Gang Gang Dance’s breakthrough fourth album, Saint Dymphna, crystallised a manic moment, a time when blogs were abuzz with motley, abrasively joyous collisions of world and dance. Ten years on, and seven since their moody, complex fifth, Eye Contact, the New York trio have shifted to meet a very different global atmosphere, tuning in, as did Björk’s Utopia, to the soothing sounds of a new age revival and filtering them through shoegazey dreampop textures. Single Lotus would fit neatly on one of those 90s Pure Moods compilations, all loose guitar and soft synths, Lizzi Bougatsos’s voice – as beautiful, infuriating and varied as ever – conjuring a panglobal sacred pop. J-Tree builds its bliss slowly, reverbed guitar rolling and crashing, ending in a sample of Standing Rock pipeline protesters jubilantly greeting the arrival of a herd of buffalo. The title track lifts rattling percussion into light, bubbling beats reminiscent of In Sides-era Orbital, as artist Oliver Payne intones colour names in a mesmerising meditation, dispelled by a big breakbeat breakdown.

There’s always, of course, been a hippie undertow to Gang Gang Dance’s mission to forge communion between disparate sounds. “There’s nothing to be scared of,” a child’s voice assures at the end of J-Tree, but though we’re supposed to be past the stage of guilty pleasures in music, pleasurable or otherwise, these sounds (the scent of Enigma and Enya, the glimmer of fire poi in the corner of your eye) still carry a taint of dippy, fantasist indulgence. The band, however, see the album less as an escape, more of an attempt to sire a better world: it’s named after live member Taka Imamura’s new baby, whose name is a play on words roughly translating as “peace tomorrow”. Whether its dreamy palette is progressive or pacifying, Kazuashita undoubtedly brings moments of beautiful respite, not least on closer Salve on the Sorrow, whose floaty fantasy vistas – crashes of drums and trills of harp, Bougatsos’s cooing and whooping like a tropical bird – end hopefully, with the sound of a match flaring.

The Guardian 60

(4AD)

The 00s gave rise to a plethora of spiral-eyed US groove bands. Headiest of all were Gang Gang Dance, a New York outfit whose commitment to aural psychedelics and world music-inclined raves remained anchored to meaty beats.

Missing for seven years, three original members have returned to an altered cultural landscape. You can hear the adjustment: a herd of wild buffalo arriving at the Standing Rock oil pipeline protest in 2016 provides the sample at the end of J-Tree, a lovely reintroduction to the beauty Gang Gang Dance can conjure.

Drowned In Sound 50

Back in the day, Gang Gang Dance were quite the proposition. Surrounded by clattering drums, Lizzi Bougatsos caterwauled on shifting sands, like an Arabian dancer locked in a cage fight with Animal Collective. Florence Welch of Florence & the Machine dug ‘em so much, that she even stole one of their lyrics back in 2010. After a fair run of EPs and albums, though, the Manhattan-based squad rested on their laurels for seven years, leaving the record-buying masses to chase other worldly novelties. Kazuashita, then, is the barely audible sigh that follows when you crack open the vacuum-sealed bag that preserved GGD in that hiatus – everything’s there, but crisply folded and flat.

Yes, ladies and gents, we are bored, and I shall now paint a more vivid picture of that ennui for your elucidation. Picture magenta. Dial that down three notches. Fill a room with this faded fuchsia; add a few stainless steel tables, some mismatched chairs, and some baristas behind the counter. Now just pipe Björk, Cocteau Twins, and maybe even some Depeche Mode into the house music, and – congrats! You’ve just established a franchise, just as 'Lotus' establishes Kazuashita: a novelty, a full-body 'experience', gestures of empathy, with more emphasis on the 'vibe' in the room than the actual product.

Thing is, even a franchise pursues a stated goal, albeit at times with coded pseudo-ethics that almost always translate into 'we just want your loyalty'. The aims of GGD, on the other hand, seem muddled in lacy synths and phantom beats. If the whole album could’ve floated untethered from the earth, I’d be down for these mixed messages – like in ‘Too Much, Too Soon,” which is like if Art of Noise could Netflix and chill with a rose-hued bong. But two monologues plopped into “J-TREE” and “(novae terrae)” suggest that some objective exists, to tie this oneiric haze with the imminent apocalypse (be that a natural or nuclear advent). But when “Salve to the Sorrow” cascades down at the end like a wet dream with Kate Bush and Xiu Xiu, we’re at a baffling crossroads. Is the answer to this postmodern paralysis always satin sheets and some melatonin?

Ultimately, that unresolved tension taints everything. If GGD want to crack into the pop world, then why is ‘Snake Dub’ so fraught with crossed wires, tedious detail, and an aged intrigue with dubstep? If GGD wanted to create a parallel dream world in the clouds, why does ‘Young Boy (Marika in Amerika)’ try to intimidate you like a thug with his passing knowledge of the band’s old worldly ways? If Kazuashita is designed to convey a message, then why can we rarely interpret Bougatsos’s otherworldly wavelength of a voice? Confusion feels like bliss when you’ve chugged a potent brew, but here the consumer just feels cheated out of either an epiphany or a good wine.

This has been a year chock full with surprise comebacks, for sure. But where other returning champs have challenged themselves to become an even bigger spectacle when they step back into the ring, GGD has fallen back into safer galleries to showcase their work. And even though the title track pushes for a Fuck Buttons-sized epic, there’s just no titanium hook that lodges in yr earlobe and pulls you back, or any cinematic transition that burns into yr retinas. Nevertheless, Kazuashita may still win you over yet – but only later, much later, after many more moons have passed, and after many more strobe lights have blinked their own indiscernible codes.

Tiny Mix Tapes 50

Gang Gang Dance
Kazuashita

[4AD; 2018]

Rating: 2.5/5

Tiny Mix Tapes 50

Gang Gang Dance
Kazuashita

[4AD; 2018]

Rating: 2.5/5