A few hasty iPhone snaps from the amazing Fischerspooner performance at the Avant/Garde Diaries Transmission1, in bcc. Unfortunately, some dangerous douchebaggery on the crowd’s behalf shut down the show halfway through – if you want to read what happened, and aren’t offended by foul language (I was pretty pissed off when I wrote it), click here.
Category: Entertainment
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Peaches Does Herself
Category: EntertainmentWe didn’t think we’d be able to post about “Peaches Does Herself”, as it was so amazing that Zoë couldn’t take her eyes off the stage long enough to focus her camera, and I was left with no words to describe what I’d witnessed. Luckily, our friends at Good Hard Working People saw the show last year and gave it a great write-up, republished below – which means we can get on with describing the wrongest moments of a performance that reached new levels of wrong. Scroll down for our panty droppin’ show stoppers…
…the fully staged, choreographed and art-directed show “Peaches Does Herself”, which celebrated the 10th anniversary of the first album (“Teaches by Peaches”) by Canadian-born, Berlin-based electronic music artist and DJ Peaches.
Peaches sings in the operating table (the green lights functioned as musical instruments played by performers)
The show tells a comprehensive story of a woman going through a sex change and looking for love – all through the use of various songs by Peaches and very effectively staged with great attention to detail, well-designed costumes and sets and choreographed and performed by talented dancers and actors with humor and sass. It became obvious that this was a production by gifted and hard-working people. Of course, I can’t ignore the fact that the themes of many songs and the show might be upsetting to some (although apparently not to Peaches’ parents who came on stage in the end and even hollered lyrics into the mic, which was such an endearing moment) – and that there is quite extensive nudity.
Watch an official behind-the-scenes video for “Peaches Does Herself”:
Here is a NSFW clip of a scene that features the nude and quite stunning Hermaphrodite (or transsexual) – who seemed to be both a perfect-looking man and a perfect-looking woman and a talented ballet dancer. The clip also features Peaches in her not-so perfect looking Hermaphrodite outfit and another gender-bending performer.
Show Stopper: The Wrongest Moments of “Peaches Does Herself”
The young guys sat next to us left in the intermission and didn’t come back, giving their tickets to a couple of girls less fazed by the onstage debauchery. What were they expecting? Anyone with a passing acquaintance with Peaches knows that she is a liberated bi woman with a singularly sexual focus, and merkins to match. Surely everyone’s heard “Fuck the Pain Away”?! But even I have to admit that prior knowledge of Peaches and her fellow performers doesn’t prepare you for seeing them act out her fantasies in the flesh. Here are the moments that made our jaws (and nearly our panties) drop:
Peaches, complete with huge fake tits and dick, serenading transexual Danni Daniels on a park bench. Twee staging and a pretty violin version of “I Feel Cream” set the scene for some cute chase-me chase-me antics with a six-foot-odd ballerina with a ballbag. Some friends were in White Trash last year when Peaches turned up with a stark-bollock-naked Danni in tow – that must have been even more surreal.
Fake tits and dick explosion. A heartbroken Peaches performs some offstage self-mutilation and returns with her post-op parts exploding into red confetti. A spectacular sight, but every man in the audience was fixated on the mangled gore of the scarily accurate chopped-up cock. *crosses legs*
Sandy Kane, the Naked Cowgirl. Like Times Square’s Naked Cowboy, only female, ancient, Jewish and X-rated. Somehow she managed to further filthify songs like “Mommy Complex” with plenty of swearing, dick jokes and old-lady-boob tricks. You can see an interview with a thankfully fully-clothed Sandy here, but you’ll have to take our word that watching her light matches in her nipples wasn’t half as bad as seeing her tuck the matchbox under her breast for later.
Psychotic stage invaders. I thought the crowd was a little restrained, until I realised that all the crazy was distilled into these two “characters”. The first time they rushed the stage, rubbing their crotches with manic faces that are still burned into my retinas, I thought they were part of the act. But the second time, when they were dragged out of the doors screaming “BULLSHIT!” it was clear that they were mental fans, and easily the most fucked up thing we saw all night.
Phew! After all that filth, I bet you could do with a video of a guy making stuff out of balloons. Enjoy!
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No publicity please!
We’ve just got back from being denied entry to C-Club, because they wouldn’t let us in with Zoë’s camera. At first, the bouncers didn’t seem sure about the venue’s policy, but one of them soon arrived at a rule he was happy to enforce: no large cameras, only small point-and-shoots. Of course, we were welcome to leave our grand’s-worth of gear here, he said, gesturing towards a plastic box at his feet right next to the door. He’d give us a number and everything – “it will be safe”.
What really bites is that we would have been allowed entry if we were on the press list. The only reason we weren’t was that I deliberately chose to buy tickets, to put money in the pockets of one of my favourite bands, Innerpartysystem (a fledgling group who, in this tough climate, have already been dropped by one major label). I would have posted Zoë’s photos here, and written a no-doubt glowing review (they’re amazing live) for BANG BANG BERLIN.
But it turns out the venue doesn’t want the publicity. I don’t know about headliners 3OH!3, but IPS are smart enough to know about the power of both fans (which has kept them alive) and good content. This is a band whose punning Never Be Content EP was launched with a video, below, all about the potential of media, marketing and advertising – albeit for harm. They know that the more words and images “out there” about them, the better.
So this must be the venue’s policy. But it doesn’t appear on their website, their tickets or even on notices at their doors. And they’re using is as a reason to turn people away, while tickets are left unsold at their box office. I understand why Berghain don’t allow cameras, because the lack of records of the superclub’s inside space actually adds to its legendary status (and leads to bonkers descriptions like this). But, Columbiahalle’s little sister venue is certainly not Berghain, nor are the clubs that are rumoured to be adopting similar policies. In fact, we don’t know what these places are like, because we aren’t going to them – and without any publicity, no-one else will.
So fuck you very much C-Club. Here’s hoping the city’s red tape chokes you off real soon.
Lucky for Berghain, it doesn’t need publicity – because photos like this (backstage) won’t help!
