of Montreal + Gang Gang Dance - Orpheum Theatre (Boston, MA; Oct. 30, 2008)

The Orpheum Theatre was only a quarter full when I stepped through the far left stairwell Wednesday night. At 7:35, a mere five minutes after the concert’s scheduled start time, the lights were already dimmed, and Gang Gang Dance’s deep, electronic rhythms were filling the capacious confines within. Limited to a small piece of real estate, Gang Gang Dance’s subdued stage demeanor was in stark contrast to of Montreal’s flamboyant antics later that evening. Nonetheless, a current of energy ran through Gang Gang Dance’s set, keeping the crowd nodding in their seats (and away from the $10 beers in the lobby). Their music provided an alluring spattering of tribal beats, grime and dubstep, occasionally accentuated by Liz Bougatsos’ haunting vocals. Bougatsos, a diminutive figure, took center stage, switching between tambourine, maracas and assorted percussion instruments, while the other three band members shied in the background. The effect was compelling, and I was left with the impression of a band that was truly coming into their own.

After Gang Gang Dance had cleared off their small piece of stage, the Orpheum started to fill up, and I got my first good look at the of Montreal audience. Animal costumes, neon spandex and sequins cascaded across the seats. Impressive though they were, they paled in comparison to what we would soon see on stage.

As for what we would hear, of Montreal’s latest, Skeletal Lamping, hadn’t seized me in the same way as some of their previous works (Satanic Panic in the Attic, Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?). We would hear a lot of Skeletal Lamping (13 of its 15 tracks); but the setlist was almost irrelevant. The music did not take center stage. Instead it played a supporting role - a backdrop for whatever scene was playing out on the Orpheum stage. Kevin Barnes, always in the spotlight (except when guitarist Bryan Poole was surprised with a birthday cake and serenade), was flanked by two drummers, guitarist, bassist, keyboardist, and an entire troop of dancers/performance artists. He made the most of them. Throughout the night, Barnes’ supporting cast carried him on a procession of golden Buddhas, covered him with red body paint, fit a noose around his neck and hanged him, and encased him within a shaving cream coffin. And that’s when they weren’t skating around the stage in leotards, crawling over each other in black bodysuits and glimmering golden masks, lifting dumbbells, and forming giant papier mache limbs into a writhing awkward body. It was part rock show, part art show and part Broadway show - certainly a production that eclipsed any I’d seen to date.

Despite the incredible experience, I stepped out of the Orpheum into the cold, (relatively) quiet night, with a feeling of mild relief. I needed a reprieve from the sensory overload of the show. I ran into Gang Gang Dance as they packed up their van. Their quiet gracious acceptance of my compliments on their set helped put things back in place as I walked back home.

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