Peaches is the kind of female musician that you just want to devour. She isn’t the sort of fruit you would take one bite out of and discard, face screwed up and eyes squinting. No. You want to consume every inch of that fruit’s juicy flesh, as it drips down your palm and wrist. You’ll even go so far as to suck on the seed in the middle.
It’s just that good.
We all seemed to wander into the Peaches gig at the Corner Hotel in Richmond searching for this forbidden fruit – for some succulent tunes to replenish our ears. It’s not unknown that Peaches definitely draws a select crowd. Yet, even the uninitiated would find it damned near impossible to stand still at one of Peaches’ gigs. The woman is such a born performer that her energy, coupled with her desire to shock, instigate and rock you, makes her almost prone to spontaneous combustion on stage.
It was a pleasant surprise to have her do a DJ set, as opposed to having her band there. The Corner could hardly contain Peaches with just turntable decks, let alone her wild outfits and dancers. So leaving our inhibitions at the door, we let the Peaches one woman show aroma take over.
Warming up the predominantly female-hipster Melbourne crowd was DJ JD Samson hailing from the band Le Tigre, whose androgyny was itself a focal point that was soon obliterated as she ripped out the deep and hard house tunes to the crowd’s elated delight. With his, I mean her, idiosyncratic adjusting of sliding glasses, occasion hand pumping and intense concentration, this chick had the punters swaying to her every whim with her nerdy chic persona that belied the dirty beats emanating from the speakers.
Running out on stage to check out Samson’s set was the titty-lady herself, nonchalantly whispering in Samson’s ear and displaying her outrageous outfit for the evening. A cream leotard with blossoming breasts surrounding her upper torso like a spring time flurry. On closer inspection, the nipples were actually the heads of Barbie dolls.
Mental note: get Peaches’ own Melbourne costume designer Jess Daly (who also happened to be one of her gorgeous dancers) to design my next party dress.
Peaches was accompanied on stage by her two brunette dancers, who looked like they had just traipsed from the set of the Labyrinth, waltzed through acid rain and stolen David Bowie’s make-up, only to then find themselves on stage. Peaches’ overtly sexual stage presence and similar musical content means that there is never a dull moment, nor a lapse in the beat. She gets straight into the business of musical pleasure, mixing up her punk- electro- dirty house beats in a seemingly foreplay fashion with the use vinyl and needles. With her immense capability to show dimension to her music, she throws in a bit of rock too with some bass guitar riffs juxtaposed against the hot and nasty, deep and dirty beat that just makes you want to rip your clothes off and grind up against your nearest buddy.
Dropping some obscure tracks, belting out vocals on a few of her own and some club hits including Dizee Rascal’s Bonkers and the playfully sexy Let’s Make Nasty by Larry Tee featuring Roxy Cottontail, Peaches hits the spot each and every time. Jumping up on top of the decks, she shakes open a bottle of champagne which she then guzzles down after pouring majority of the bubbly liquid into the front row’s gaping mouths.
Now we’re getting into the rhythm of it.
The muscle shaking concoction of music and dancing continued as another dancer emerged on stage – a raven haired, fishnet wearing, envelope- pushing transvestite. With Peaches’ love of gender bending, interesting performers and penchant for bending over a turntable with her ass facing the crowd, it doesn’t necessarily take away from her creativeness behind the decks (when she’s not spraying champagne or playing with her boob ensemble). It just adds to it.
Her juices never seem to go rancid, the music just continues to elevate until we finally reached the climax of the night. A quarter of the crowd got up on stage to dance, sans any sort of crowd control from the bouncer(s) in attendance. It was refreshing and somewhat liberating to see a crowd get on stage without any thought of harming or inhibiting the performer. And Peaches really couldn’t give a toss. She loves getting among it and letting the crowd enjoy themselves in close proximity to her. Even the dancers were donning smirks as they jumped up on the decks to sway their arms above the crowd. By this stage everyone (still left on the dance floor) was in full swing, lapping up the last track of the evening
That gig was absolutely mind blowing. Every pun your dirty minds can conjure intended.