Friday, 16 December 2005 04:55
The songs have graphic images of women and the tricky things they do: women left holding the gun or on the run, women scratching their crotches or swaying with heart-shaped asses. This eroticism invades their live show, as well.
It’s very hard to pigeonhole the Electric, and that’s the way the band likes it. Start with its name: the Electric. It’s so ambiguous, it could work for almost any band: no-wave synth, unconventional experimental, dark goth, even heavy metal. Even more frustrating is trying to describe the band’s sound. The Riverfront Times tried to classify them and failed when it named the Electric “Best Garage Band” for 2002 and 2003. A commendable award, but the Electric is not garage rock. As a comparison, try this: mix two cups of the Cramps, one cup New York Dolls, a half cup Stevie Ray Vaughn, and a dash of Iggy Pop. And, oh yeah, sprinkle in a little Rocky Horror Picture Show transsexuality, then blend until chunky. That’s the Electric. They’re bluesy, rocky and, more importantly, erotic.