Described as the “queen of electro-punk” by Rolling Stone, Peaches isn’t your typical rock star. Her music sounds like a flirtation with early 80s techno combined with the lusty lyrics of gangsta rap, delivered in a voice that resembles a dominatrix at times, a sex kitten at others. Her first CD, The Teaches of Peaches (2000), was an underground success that produced cult hits like “Fuck the Pain Away” (destined to be used in raunchy drag shows for decades to come). Her most recent CD, Fatherfucker (2003), features Peaches on the cover wearing a full Abraham Lincoln-esque beard. The title alone makes it obvious that Peaches isn’t vying to be a mainstream pop hit.

Unlike pop stars who flirt with lesbianism for publicity (e.g., the overplayed Britney/Madonna smooch), Peaches is much more than a tease: she exudes her sexuality like sweat, and lavishes it equally on men and women. In the song “I U She” on Fatherfucker she raps, “I don’t have to make the choice / I like girls and I like boys.”

In other words, Peaches doesn’t apologize for liking what she likes and for liking it in many different ways. While she may not describe herself as “bisexual,” she clearly doesn’t shy away from that label. She could be the no-apologies post-feminist pro-sex poster child for lesbians and bisexual women everywhere--she even owns the sex toys to prove it.

Any doubts that Peaches is dedicated to turning gender on its head are put to rest by watching her belt out undeniably crass lyrics on stage while dressed in her trademark hot pants and go-go boots. Flanked by two gender-ambiguous dancers who resemble lanky drag queens but also at times sport jaunty red dildos, Peaches’ live performance is a queer-infused spectacle of sexual freedom and female power (there are no men in her show; even when she sings about having sex with men, the “men” are played by her apparently-female dancers).

As she told Remix Magazine in October 2003, “In my eyes, I do a hyperobjectification, which is a take-control kind of thing. I like to turn that around and say, of course, women are objectified, but I'm not gonna shy away from that. In the same way that I'm calling my new album Fatherfucker, I'm not shying away from the word motherfucker — I'm just trying to give a magnified look at it.”

But whether or not Peaches’ “magnified” look at the term motherfucker succeeds is debatable. Even though her lyrics champion a woman’s right to have whatever kind of sex she wants, Peaches is certainly not politically correct and she does run the risk of alienating listeners who may be tempted to dismiss her as a Lil' Kim for punks.

Peaches’ songs are catchy in a retro-80s kind of way and they almost demand to be played in clubs under the cover of strobe lights, but her lyrics are not terribly original. For example, in the song “Stuff Me Up” she chants, “Eat a cookie, a big dick, everyday, what? / Eat a cookie, a big clit, every day, what?” In other words, it’s easy to reject Peaches as someone who is merely trying to shock the mainstream.

But it's through her live performances that Peaches’ really shines. There’s something about seeing this tiny Canadian-born woman strutting around onstage—usually entirely alone—that brings home the fact that Peaches is for real. She is absolutely magnetic on stage; she obviously enjoys performing and her energy is exhilarating. Sure, her performance is about having a good time and having sex, but it’s also about messing up the status quo.

In one part of her show she dons a white vinyl jacket and sunglasses to take on the persona of Elvis. The costume itself is minimal (she’s still wearing her hot pants and go-go boots), so the King is suggested more through Peaches’ motions and voice than any actual resemblance. Her rendition of Elvis focuses attention on the stylized nature of pop performance, and provides a moment for the audience to realize that yes, this is a show; it is recognizable as a performance and reminds us of that fact. Then, the fact that it is Peaches—a woman—doing the King references a long line of women in drag, many of whom have also performed as Elvis.

It is unlikely that Peaches will ever become a mainstream rock star if she continues to write lyrics that are as raw as the ones on Fatherfucker, simply because her CD will be banned from mainstream retail outlets, but Peaches has clearly entered the mainstream pop consciousness. Last year she collaborated with Pink—who also flirts with lesbianism on a regular basis—by rapping on the song “Oh My God” on Pink’s CD Try This.

But I’m not disappointed that Peaches probably won’t be the next Madonna. We have enough Madonna wannabes right now; what we need is a performer who actually follows through offstage—someone who not only talks about bisexuality but doesn’t deny it when the show is over. I wouldn’t recommend listening to Peaches with your parents, but do listen to her. She provides a much-needed reminder that it’s more than okay for women to express their sexual needs—it’s necessary.

Fatherfucker CD