Peaches, Peaches, Peaches…check out your Chrissy behind now.
On her fifth studio album, I Feel Cream, the Queen of Electrocrap has decided to let her hair down (wayyy down if you’ve seen the video for “Talk To Me”) and invited some super cool collaborators into the creamery. Among them? A slew of the most exciting movers and shakers of alt-electronica, including Soulwax, Digitalism, Drums of Death, and most extensively, Simian Mobile Disco‘s James Ford. As a result, most of the album offers a wealth of complex electro-encrusted gems never before encountered by the likes of Peaches. Don’t worry, though–she’s got this.
As with all of Peaches back catalog, the album is mostly lined with skittish, electro-stung up-tempos, including the sugary-sweet bounce of “Trick Or Treat,” the noisy build-up of “More,” and the faithfully minimal opener “Serpentine” (2009’s contemplative response piece to 2003’s “I Don’t Give A…”). Then there’s the self-described “electro-soul” first single, “Talk To Me,” which features a strut-fest of swagger that simply begs to be delivered live on her upcoming tour.
“Never mind my age, it’s like I’m breaking out of a cage,” she moans in the middle of the foot-stomping chaos of “Show Stopper.” While the album is rife with allusions to Ms. Nisker’s age (having just turned forty in November), Peaches keeps her Teaches as sexified as ever, urging her listeners to suck that fat and lick her crow’s feet. “Almost as old school as me…I’m gonna send you back to school,” she taunts atop the series of grinding, industrial synths in “Mommy Complex.” Did I forget to mention Peaches was an elementary teacher once? Too real.
But perhaps the greatest surprise hidden within Cream are the numerous mid-tempos including “Lose You,” the best song Annie never recorded. “I Feel Cream” is another stunning highlight, a gritty, winding re-interpretation of Donna Summer‘s signature “I Feel Love” suited with one of the slickest bridges (about two and a half minutes in) that I’ve heard in a long time: “Let’s get suspect, let’s get ripped, every little defect gets respect” she coos across a high-wire of jagged synths.
It’s only with the plodding “Billionaire” that the artist seems to get a bit too mired in the super-slick production from her buddies, sounding more like a Peaches song slowly deflating atop uneven electro slaps.
Though the album’s production value is at an all time maximum, the Queen of Nazzty holds her own against the torrent of hard synths and buckets of drippy electronica. While I’ll always know Peaches best for her most minimal of work, it’s nice to see that she’s expanded her repertoire with Cream. It’s not the greatest album she’s ever done, but unlike some of the other reigning Queens of the music industry (including, I dare say, Pop), the songstress keeps it legitimate with this undeniably Peaches affair.
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