Live

PEACHES, MEN

RIALTO THEATRE

Wednesday, Oct. 28

If Peaches’ latest album, I Feel Cream, represents a
mellowing of her material—with less of an emphasis on
pornographic shock-talk—Wednesday’s performance was a jolting
reminder that she’s still got her edge.

Her stage show was evidence that Peaches is the performer Madonna
always wished she could be, from the avant-garde costume
changes—a bubblegum-pink Metroid-esque leotard; a gold
lamé druid’s cloak; white latex hot pants with a matching vest
and aviator sunglasses—to her potty-mouthed swagger, to her
show’s overt play with gender, power and sex. While Madonna was always
too preoccupied objectifying herself, Peaches mocked the very idea of
objectification by symbolically changing gender from song to song,
wielding and stroking a 4-foot neon light saber like a penis, and then
affixing a strobe light to her crotch during “Mommy Complex.”

There was nothing subtle or underplayed about her show, and that was
the point. Peaches celebrated all of rock’s excesses: spraying the
crowd with champagne, crowd surfing—at one point standing at her
full height atop the hands of the crowd—kicking over mic stands
and climbing on the bass drum to bang the crash cymbal during “Fuck the
Pain Away.”

Opening her set with “Mud,” she performed the whole song adorned in
a massive black costume made of knotted fringe that was part Jim
Henson, part tribal avatar. It was this penchant for the totally
bizarre that made her so enthralling to watch, combined with the
punk-metal spectacle of her losing control.

The opening act, MEN, was dull compared to the energy and spectacle
Peaches brought. The three-piece, which features Le Tigre’s JD Samson
as its frontwoman, played some relatively fun and spacey electro
remixes, though the songs felt interminably long. And despite Samson’s
undeniable appeal, the band’s more didactic trappings—like having
stagehands march “Silence = Death” banners behind the band as they
played—fell flat.

I can’t imagine what more one could want from a rock performance
than what Peaches delivered. “Tucson,” she told us toward the end of
the night, “I only knew you from a Steve Miller song. But now I
really know you.” She teased us that she’d had her way with
us—which she definitely did.

This article appears in Nov 5-11, 2009.