Electro Trash


Swayzak don’t like genres even though they helped define one. “Genres are so boring,” said Scotsman Broon, one-half of the tech-house duo, as he scanned the cover of XLR8R magazine hyping “Dubstep” while shopping at Etherea record store.

And don’t get them started on electroclash. The duo were scheduled to play the Tribeca Grand that evening, so I warned them of the venue’s trendy, fashionista crowd. “So, will people be standing around, going, ‘I don’t know. They don’t have mullets. Is it OK to like them?’ ” joked Broon.

It was decided that there was still time for Broon to style his shaggy blond mop into a ‘fro-mullet, thereby qualifying the duo as electroclash. “We are electroclash!” insisted partner James. “We are electro and clash!” said Broon.

They couldn’t be stopped. James pointed at a tree and a bed of flowers on East 4th Street. “Electroclash!”

Yes, well, they do have a record due out on Studio !K7 called Dirty Dancing that is quite a departure from their previous work. The record is very song-based, with breakbeats forming the backbone, and yes, deadpan vocals. It’s all a bit . . . electroclash.

“We did more vocals this time because the tracks felt like songs,” said James.

At their two gigs at Discothèque and Tribeca Grand a couple of weekends ago, anyone who came looking for Dirty Dancing‘s cheeky bits might have been miffed, but hopefully not disappointed by the twosome’s off-the-cuff set. On both nights, they played close to two hours—a phenomenally long set for a live techno p.a.—of lush tech-house. Friday’s gig was filled with trainspotters—including the man who made the term famous, Irvine Welsh—but Saturday’s show was (as expected) packed with an unusually high number of mullet-wearing folks.

The band’s publicist, Brock, excused one dancing, mulleted young lady. “We’ll forgive her. She was in the front row all last night and never left. She’s one of us.”

Lesbians don’t have the same stellar fashion and music sense as their male counterparts—something that Camille Paglia has harped about (really, she’s one to talk). So when a lesbian party purports to be about the music—instead of the number of go-go girls and rest rooms—one is bound to be shocked, simply shocked!

Jolie, a new girlie gig at Opaline that debuted on Pride weekend, was about the music, for once. Though not experimental or underground enough to please serious record collectors, it was a thousand times better than the usual lesbian fare (’80s, hip-hop, and Top 40—not mixed by a proficient DJ, either). And the ladies—whether with pouty red lips or short, perfectly coiffed spiky hair—were all gussied up.

The woman behind Jolie (French for “pretty”) is a New York newbie named Oraia Reid. She cut her promoting-and-performing teeth in Seattle; her party, MakeOut, was voted one of the city’s top five DJ nights by Seattle Magazine last year.

Reid, who is also a performer (“think post-punk, riot rock,” she says), has a wish list of New York’s top lady DJs, including Reid Speed and Doomer. “I want to make it my priority to book lady DJs and performance artists.”

While Reid expects that her party will keep house music as a staple, she hopes to change up the musical format: The next gig will be an electro-’80s bonanza featuring Kate and Winter


Don’t you hate it when you get fired and find out about your dismissal through a posting for your very position? Kimyon, Rich, and Juan C., a/k/a the Foundation Crew, sympathize: They learned of their departure from club Groovejet via a press release announcing a new Saturday-night party.

Ironically, the same release touts Foundation’s July 6 event with Harry the Bastard: “There’s no stopping the Foundation Crew, who are gathering a dedicated following at a fast pace.” That didn’t stop management from announcing their replacement, Skool (promoted by GBH), right underneath. Groovejet manager Bo Arias offered: “The e-mail went out a bit early before we had a chance to sit down and talk with them. It was a very embarrassing situation for everyone involved.”