Peaches
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Grand At The Regency
Review by Steven Gdula
Better than: Seeing the same show in a place without hardwood floors.
Just as Peaches was getting ready to deliver the money shot at her Friday night show at The Grand Ballroom, an audience member launched a water bottle at the stage, hitting the singer squarely on the forehead. Not surprisingly, she delivered an epithet-riddled outburst at the offender. The reprimand was well deserved, but it also necessary for this particular entertainer. Posturing is crucial to the Peaches persona. After a night of assuming cocksure stances, she couldn't let the idiot off without stepping up. If she had, all of that swagger would've seemed like, well, an act.
As it is, the illusion of Peaches requires some suspended disbelief. You can't lift up the curtain, tug at the beard, or throw a bottle of water, without shattering that image or spoiling the fun. Unfortunately, the unprovoked projectile did just that; it wrecked the illusion. Still, it can't be easy to recover from a clip to the head and then go back to straddling a drum kit with a twat-light blinking in your leotard to sing "Fuck The Pain Away."
