You may have seen her performing the other night in a pink latex tank, or with long hairs draping from her nipples and vagina. Or you may not have even recognised her under the cloak of stuffed, saggy breasts. But believe it or not, Peaches is back and more unfiltered and proud than ever with her first studio album in ten years. No Lube So Rude’s eleven tracks are equally politically and sexually charged reflections on liberation amid a world whose leaders seem to have a penchant for authoritarianism. About the motivation behind the album, Peaches says: “When the world is friction, lube isn’t a luxury. It’s a necessity. It’s how you turn that friction into pleasure, into power, into pride.”
It’s nice to know that as famous artists are evading questions about politics and humanity at worldwide festivals like Berlinale and choosing to subscribe to the ‘apolitical’ posse, there are still artists like Peaches who defy that and demand visibility and change. The queer, Canadian electroclash artist, who’s been based in Berlin for over two decades now, makes music for the girls, the gays, and the theys who are fed up with the polished displays of sexuality that society allows. She doesn’t care if you find it grotesque or vulgar — what’s so wrong with that anyways?
Peaches parallels overt sexual imagery and messaging with the crackdown on women’s and LGBTQ+ people’s bodily autonomy. The playful synth triggers a callback to some of the 80s sounds we know and love, while some of the rock and punk-esque tracks distinguish themselves, especially in Fuck How You Wanna Fuck. As she lists fetishes, the moody rhythm – coupled with calling out loathsome Supreme Court justice, Brett Kavanaugh, and the overturning of Roe v Wade – elicits a defiant tone. She shows that sexual expression doesn’t just coexist with politics, but actually goes hand in hand with determining legislation and changing cultural and societal norms. The antithesis to shame is pride, and in a society that thrives on taboos, celebrating sexuality is resistance to repression.
Peaches echoes this sentiment by calling out technocrats and nepo babies in Hanging Titties. And she doesn’t stop there; she goes on to critique the treatment of post-menopausal women who are boxed into the old, dried up, irrelevant category. She may be older than some, but that doesn’t mean society can discard her or tell her she’s not sexual, dynamic, and a trailblazer. If anything, as she says in Panna Cotta Delight, she’s “Solid gold / A woman in control of all her holes.”
The heavy bass of Take It and mysterious, melodic vocals singing about being taken for granted prompt us to see that Peaches has also had to endure the heart-wrenching experience of giving your everything to someone who overpowers your own sense of self. You can tell she’s not just talking about herself but about the communities she represents. Speaking to the draining aspect of relationships where one person takes everything from another, the track also serves as a metaphor for the theft of queer aesthetics and the robbing of women of their bodies and choices. Laid bare, women and LGBTQ+ people, especially those of colour, have had their identities stripped and reappropriated into pop culture trends, only to be abandoned as the next fad emerges.
Possibly the most outspokenly political song on the album is Not In Your Mouth None Of Your Business. Chanting over intense synth and a strong bass is a feisty voice, channelling a protest-inspired anthem. As the title suggests, if you have an aversion to a sexual act, then you don’t have to do it. And everyone else that doesn’t share that hostility can do whatever the hell they want because it has no effect on you. In a moment reminiscent of the AIDS epidemic and the perpetual war on women’s bodies, Peaches calls out the eerily nostalgic likeness of our current and previous political and social climates. We see history repeating itself with the dangerous limitations put on scientific research, lack of access to healthcare, and the sweeping resurgence of traditional conservative values.
Some may say that the overt messaging in some of her songs is too on-the-nose and not in her wheelhouse as her playful lyrics and sexual image overshadow the theme. But this isn’t a new concept for Peaches. She’s been talking about pertinent issues since the start of her career, whether on her platform or through music. Her commitment to being kinky, explicit, and grotesque is in itself a political act when society would rather women and queer people be prudish, but not too frigid that men can’t enjoy them. There is no way for us to win. So why not show up as you are?
In No Lube So Rude, Peaches explores how just like in sex, we need lube in our lives to fight the friction of the state, of man-made and imposed rules of order. The allegorical lube is something that allows us to express ourselves, let it be a little easier to move through the world, through the tight confines of the modern landscape. Her upbeat, electro, punky sound and salacious lyrics are the lube we need. This album is for the club-rat gays who want a (sexual) revolution.