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August 16, 2007
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Bang Gang Deejays, Lights, Sound, Dance So much better than Klaxons it hurts, this rave-mashup hit squad from Australia is insolence personified, violently kicking arena-disco’s chair out from under it and making fat jokes about its momma. Comprised of — well, nobodies to you because you’re not an Australian nu-raver, but try to imagine a fivesome of guys who are fringe-important, utterly wingnut-bonkers and smelly — the Bang Gangers are no snooty “project” at all but something that formed organically (yes, smarty pants, just like mold) in the Moulin Rouge nightclub when everyone realized there was literally nothing to do in Sydney on Friday nights. The mashing is severe, scattershot and attention-deficient, with such things as Wolfmother’s “Woman” and Ratatat’s “Wildcat” getting the Hostel treatment from shakily held synth-lasers, gibbering dialog and whatever else was laying around getting mud tromped on it. This is what the descendants of Meat Beat Manifesto were supposed to be doing —about time, ya buncha knuckleheads. A — E. W. S.
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