Going Solo to see Peaches

Seeing Peaches perform is like a bucket list show for me, so much so I made sure to get her ticket the second the presale option was available. After reflecting on the set, I am still glad I went. However, it was a mistake to go by myself. This is a show to be seen with the group that sees you for the freak that you are.

Enough of regrets, but what of the set?

This was my first time at Central Machine Works, parking is nonexistent on this part of town so find a neighborhood street and prepare to walk into traffic. I missed the opening act trying to find the place and then a spot. Which sucks because they sounded amazing. I ate up a good hour walking, heading to the merch booth, waiting in the lines for the bathroom, and then waiting in line for a drink. I did not eat however, which may have been a missed opportunity since this is a beer venue with food. They also sell liquor for those like myself who can’t stand the taste of beer or wine. Shout out to the bartender who was able to make a tasty vodka drink for this picky person knowing nothing of my personality and with the items that she had available.

This was a packed show, you had to get tickets in advance which is part of the reason I was alone. As an adult some of my friends have to make a choice between medical bills and enjoyment because life sucks like that now. My quick moment to advocate for both universal health care and free show vouchers given out by the government as mental health aides, let us live a healthy and enjoyable life.

Peaches is the closest that I have come to seeing performance art in person. Yes she played the hits that I wanted to hear like “Operate” and an encore set that included “Fuck the Pain Away,” but she did these things while walking on the crowd’s hands or in pasties that had nipple hair so long it dropped to her crotch.

She made use of monstrous set pieces that brought to life the nightmares of our conservative leaders. Larger than life genitalia, in designer suits no less! Did John Waters come up with her set design, or just approve it? It was like nothing I have ever seen and left me booth skeeved out and keyed up. Can you image what it would have been like on psychedelics? If so, describe it so us straight edged adults can trip through you.

Now it wasn’t just a one woman show, her dancers were buff and beautiful Adonises that could stomach roll in unison in the most hypnotizing way. A magic act that hid the hip thrust that exposed comically large dicks that waved around in rhythm. Bopping like a lure on an angler fish from the deep.

I applaud her ability to use her music to protest the state of things for so long, for being so open to consenting kink and queerness, she has built a community that I am rediscovering as I moved from skank to mother skunk. I just like my idols to be from afar, especially when I am by myself. Her movement into the crowd confused me as I didn’t see us all drop to our knees to plead our lack of worthiness, we have not right to be part of this other then to perceive it.

If my friends were there, maybe I would have been more in awe and less in fear. Maybe I would have danced harder, drank more, become the mess that is always rolling underneath my skin. Instead I wished that you were there to enjoy it with me, this miserable life that is sprinkled with moments of escapes in the vices we keep. Fucking the pain away only works if there is a glint of knowing in the eye that you catch.

Peaches if for lovers, I mean she doesn’t ever really talk about masturbation unless it is mutual. You shouldn’t be dancing by yourself, but with others. So go, but go surrounded in love.

Last thing, I made a joke about her merchandise including a branded strap-on only to find that she was selling 30 dollar lubricant. Love the marketing, but god damn at that price. In this economy, as I jealousy watched everyone wearing their 100 dollar crop top mesh jersey that I couldn’t bring myself to buy. Could you imagine what the strap on harness would have been priced at?!