Peaches is proof that fads may come and go, but electropunk is like fine, funky […]
Peaches is proof that fads may come and go, but electropunk is like fine, funky cheese when this freak is at it. Like the whole genre personified, her bisexuality (“I don’t like to make the choice/I like girls and I like boys”) is arguably exemplified by a horny mash of buxom electronic bass with hard guitar snarls. Able to tap the most visceral of both camps at once, she still achieves this logical composite through minimal techniques. From the opening Joan Jett rip to Iggy Pop’s cameo and Peaches’s smooth singing, Fatherfucker threatens even wider appeal than Teaches of Peaches.