Peaches, with raunch dressing – Wed 06/20/07 New York

Peaches, Highline Ballroom, New York City, Wednesday 06/20/07 10:30pm

Last night, at 10pm, I got off the L train with the best-looking group of chicks I’d seen in a long time. The young and faintly arty were out in force. Sky-high stiletto stripper shoes, gold lame minis, all manner of strings and loops masquerading at shirts – and tho’ I’ll bet most of these wholesome chix worked in mid-level publishing, marketing and sales somewhere, (like me!) everybody was primed for fun, fun, fun — with mild raunch-style dressing on the side.

They were there for Peaches, creator of the immortal “Impeach My Bush,” “Shake Yr Tits,” and of course,”Fuck the Pain Away,” electroclash’s noisiest, cheesy, and possibly most endearing provocateur.

Female empowerment? Female debasement? Post-structural subverter of roles? Aging paunchy chick doing drag queen version of being a woman? Past her moment? Too Canadian? Does anyone even care? Everybody was having fun where I was.

She took the stage, carried thru the crowd on her handlers’s shoulders shouting out the lyrics to “Impeach My Bush.” Being at the front side of stage,

my pal Monique and I saw this as Peaches climbed aboard.

With no band, no backup, and a black plastic Hefty bag of costumes, she performed a sort of karaoke burlesque send-up, strutting and posing on stage, doing her own costume changes in full view of the audience, pulling lam[accent]e and glittery things from that black plastic Hefty bag on the bare, bare stage.

A rousing “Two Guys for Every Girl,” “Suck My . . .,” and “Downtown” followed.

She entertained; got the guitar our after one of my faves, “AA XXX,”

Chugged a beer in one gulp, drank whiskeys supplied by the audience, poured water over her head and shook her hair like a dog, and camped it up big time. The costumes were a riot – at one point she exclaimed, “I’m ridiculous! I love it.”
{NOTE TO THE PRUDES – these costumes are FAKE plastic. But if you are shockable: DON’T LOOK! JUST DON’T! Okay.}

A hot “Hot Rod”

and a triumphant “Fuck the Pain Away”

closed the set.

And she treated the audience to a video as a finale, a send-up of a send-up. Riffing on Alanis’s riff on Fergie, Peaches’ “My Dumps” is . . . everything you’d expect it to be. A reflection; a projection:

Something tasty, there, Peaches?


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