Ever since the launch of boy bands and Britneys in the late ’90s, cynicism has tarnished the concept of manufactured music. Last summer’s television travesty, American Idol, did not help its reputation, either. Sometimes, people forget that musical contrivance can be a good thing, as it supplies multiple and diverse creative outlets. Gorrillaz, the Monkees and Elvis aren’t so bad, right? Then let pop culture and subculture both embrace Electroclash, the hottest scene of the moment.
The Electroclash madness assaulted the Brooklyn music scene sometime in 2000. DJ Larry Tee started a weekly party at the hole-in-the-wall club Luxx, in trendy Williamsburg. He entitled the event “Berliniamsburg,” in hopes of evoking the decadent Euro club vibe of the early ’80s, with the electronic music of bands like Kraftwerk in mind.
Its popularity skyrocketed (and is still going full force), attracting everyone from local hip kids to Manhattan fashionistas. It’s a flashy oasis of exhibitionism and people watching. The party, as well as the music, celebrates glamour, excess, sleaze, retro, sex and electronics. It’s a trip back to the ’80s — except now, everyone has a digital camcorder on hand. One may even say that Larry Tee has transformed Luxx into a Studio 54 for the millennium. This time, the classic disco of the days of Liza and Halston meets techno, rock, new wave and whatever else a laptop can sputter.
Contrived? Yes. But worth the fun? Most definitely.
Think of the Waitresses. Think Flying Lizards. Think Nena’s “99 Luftballoons” or Soft Cell’s “Sex Dwarf.” The sound of Electroclash begins there. Add a whole lotta edge, perhaps a little obscenity. Then take away any existing rules. Don’t expect to find any clear sense of genre in the process of listening. Dress it up. Drug it up. Dance it up. Maybe you wouldn’t necessarily want to buy any of these bands’ records, but count on them to provide a night of delicious entertainment. No one should take Electroclash too seriously; music snobs should just suck it up, relax and join the party.
In 2001, Larry Tee grouped the “Berlianiamsburg” bands together to form the Electroclash Festival in New York. Over five days, 6000 people ventured to the massive party. Since then, the movement has been featured in fashion and music magazines in the US and Europe, including Vogue, The Face, Spin, Rolling Stone and The Fader. This year, the festival goes on tour, hitting L.A., San Francisco, D.C., Chicago, Atlanta, Montreal and Boston. Thus, as Electro-culture spreads its wings, it will be interesting to see just how much “underground” will remain.
The Boston pit stop of the Electroclash Festival took place at TT the Bear’s Place on Sunday night. The sold-out show highlighted four representatives of the Brooklyn scene: Tracy and the Plastics, W.I.T., Chicks on Speed, and Peaches. No one played a musical instrument onstage (with the notable exception of the Chicks on Speed, who banged on metal objects and a tambourine for one song). However, all had their fingers on a computer at some point. Forty-something Larry Tee spun between sets, and managed to inspire even the most disgruntled Boston scenester to shake his groove thing.
Don’t be fooled. The “Plastics” of Tracy and the Plastics are indeed a backup band, but they’re also fictional characters (played by the petite Tracy herself) appearing only on video behind the lead singer. A fantastic opening act, Tracy spent most of the show half-faced toward her video “friends,” tirelessly bouncing up and down to her minimalist, popped up techno and belting the vocals.
Many consider W.I.T. the poster children of Electroclash-Larry Tee names them one of his favorite new bands. They appeared on The Fader’s front cover this fall. Aiming to bring glamour back into rock, this female trio performed a flawless set with a Blondie-esque feel. Their music is also perhaps the most digestible of Electroclash, and the crowd adored it.
A girly version of The Cars’ “Just What I Needed” was one of the night’s most memorable moments. The ladies of W.I.T. acted like a ’60s Motown girl group for the modern age — they had a synchronized dance (including the Robot) prepared for nearly every song. Lead singer Melissa Burns glammed it up, combining a Farrah Fawcett hairdo with a Marilyn Monroe dress. Too bad these girls don’t have a record deal yet.
Chicks on Speed, a well-established, arty, electronic-punk band, lived up to their name. They played an ultra-hyper and exhausting set. The influence of Kraftwerk and other German electronic music was prevalent in their songs, and Chicks on Speed twisted that style with bizarre urban sophistication. Songs like “Euro-Trash Girl” and “Fashion Rules” could easily be heard on the runway of an Alexander McQueen or Comme des Garcons show.
Peaches, the supposed headliner and most-anticipated act, proved to be the most disappointing. People came with high expectations, as Peaches is known for her rampant profanity and super-sexual stage show. She immediately tore off her famous blond wig to reveal a brunette mullet, and gave a powerhouse performance for her first three or so songs. Peaches did her usual stripping and tearing—she even stage dove—but at times she lacked the interest of the crowd. Thankfully, she closed the night with a redeeming version of her most-noted number, “F— the Pain Away.”
Obviously, Electroclash isn’t the only huge music scene stemming from New York right now. But it provides a great contrast to the garage rock of bands like The Strokes, Yeah Yeah Yeahs and The Mooney Suzuki. The two varieties of music have nothing in common. While The Strokes re-introduced the elements of flat-out rock and roll, indulgent Electroclash doesn’t contain much outside of a computer.
In fact, Chicks on Speed have a song in which they insistently chant “We don’t play guitars” and the girls of W.I.T. use guitars as props, without ever touching the strings. Electroclash may not be able to compete with the musical merit or lasting power of these fantastic rock bands, but we should welcome it and enjoy it while it’s here — if only because it’s a hell of a lot of fun.