Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!
Become a Fan of The Village Voice on Facebook
169 Bar Nyc
• website • view ad
92nd St.y   Tribeca
• website
Al B Entertainment
• website
Bb Kings
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
The Bitter End
• website • view ad
Blender
• website • view ad
Blue Note
• website • view ad
Bowery Ballroom
• website • view ad
Fat Cat/smalls
• website • view ad
Hammerstein Ballroom
• website • view ad
Highline Ballroom
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Iridium Jazz Club
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Irving Plaza
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Knitting Factory
• website • view ad
Le Poison Rouge
• website
Nokia Theatre
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Pianos
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Radegast Hall & Biergarten
• website • view ad
Red Lion
• website • view ad
Roseland
• website • view ad
Sounds Of Brazil
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Southpaw
• website • view ad
• buy tickets
Spike Hill
• website • view ad
Sullivan Hall
• website • view ad
The Bell House
• website
The Studio @ Webster Hall
• website • view ad
Music

Share

  • rss
Music

Eat a Lot of Peaches

Douglas Wolk

Tuesday, March 6th 2001

There's a certain kind of audacious lyric that you have to earn to pull off: cringeworthy on its own, devastating in context. The Birthday Party's "I tied off/Fuckin' wings burst out my back" is one example, Prince's "Your face is jammin'/Your body's heck-a-slammin' " another. The Moldy Peaches pull off two or three of them in almost every one of their songs. The justification is that they're massively catchy—like, horrifyinglycatchy. Like, I went around for three weeks singing, "I like it when my hair is poofy/I like it when you slip me a roofie."

Sometimes the Peaches are just Adam Green, who shreds on an electrified acoustic guitar and has a poker face of a voice, and Kimya Dawson, who wears a tattered rabbit suit and sings like she's confessing; sometimes they've got a rudimentary but enthusiastic rhythm section too. The above-referenced "Who's Got the Crack" appears on their homemade, self-released, self-titled, thoroughly earnest CD-R, which beats their earlier Ferever(the punk cover of "Little Bunny Foo Foo" is really not a good idea). A new Rough Trade import combines highlights from both. In a lot of their best moments, Dawson and Green seem to be singing two different songs at each other, like Sleater-Kinney with a case of the giggles. His lyric to "Steak for Chicken" is mostly the smutty one and hers is mostly the tender one, though its climax is when she rhymes the title with "who'm I gonna stick my dick in?"

They both have solo careers, too. Green's self-titled CD-R shows a sweet but underripe Peach; Dawson's I'm Sorry That Sometimes I'm Meanand Knock-Knock Who?are whispery and amiably bonkers (the latter includes "Great Crap," a meticulous, fragile meditation on attraction, recorded with the TV on, that takes five minutes to mutate into the theme song from The Golden Girls). All of the above are generally available at their shows—they play NYC every 20 seconds or so—or via moldypeaches2000@hotmail.com.

Recent Articles

More by Douglas Wolk

Most Popular