Peaches

Fri 24th Apr, 2009 in Features

I used to be a real estate agent. As an agent heading out to meet prospective clients it was important to understand your prey (err, vendor) and adapt your performance (um, spiel) accordingly.

One particular (and I do mean particular) group that struck fear into the heart of the agency were teachers. On more than one occasion I saw sales proposals returned to the office with red pen corrections scrawled all over. These were not clients you met when you were hungover, stupid or ill-prepared, as they weighed every word you said and consistently recognised a blatant tautology when they heard one. Kinda like writers. Which is why it is to my eternal chagrin that I got on the telephone to ex-teacher Peaches with the ridiculous idea in my head that with a few notes and questions we could – œwing it’.

I make apologies for my lack of preparation. This was a last minute interview allocation. She remains silent. I mention an album preview piece written by a journo who hasn’t listened to the album – a problem I also have since the record hadn’t been delivered yet. The expectation was that Peaches might explore new lyrical themes. I, for one, never really found Peaches sexually tainted lyrics terribly controversial in the first place.

“Yeah, well you know,” the lady herself drawls, “whatever angle you need.”

Silence.

Now I panic. I mention the fact that on this album she has worked with Jason Beck [ Chilly Gonzales ] again. They’d put together a band called Shit in 1995. As I am asking, “Have you ever worked with Jason on any Peaches work before?” she responds to my use of the word “again” by shooting back, “I’ve never worked with Jason Beck on one of my own albums.”

Happily, from here, she throws a lifeline. She’s keen to rap about her latest baby, I Feel Cream, and in her sexy, rough, warm tone proceeds to rattle on about it. “It was really fun to work with Gonzales. So something like writing Talk To Me together was really fun ‘cause he knows me so well. For this new album it was very important for me to let out a secret weapon that I haven’t let out before, which,” she states matter-of-factly, “is called, I’m a really good singer. So, I sing a lot. And that’s the most surprising thing for people on the new album. There’s even a ballad on there.

“I think I’ve made three albums [that are] very hardcore and to the point and in a very specific way [designed] to challenge and question mainstream culture and pop culture. I mean, it was a big concept to challenge people to dance to that, hopefully enjoy it, get something out of it and feel like if there was something missing [presumably in their lives] that I could fill the void.”

On I Feel Cream, however, she, “collaborated with people. The production is amazing and I got to work more on [my production techniques], and more on my vocal styles and my melodies.”

My gentle questioning of why it took her so long to sing again is met with silence. Then, as though I just wasn’t listening, “Oh, I just explained that.” She laughs her infectious laugh. “Did I not explain that?” She does now. “I didn’t wanna be seen as a singer, I wanted my point to come across of what I wanted to do. And you know, I just gave you a whole answer.”

She humours me anyway. “I was a pioneer in putting together indie-punk and electro at the first place where people thought it was weird or were afraid of it or, – œWhat was the point of that?’ The minute you sing, all that goes out the window. It’s like, – œOh there’s a voice, forget it.’”

Interesting that before becoming Peaches, the then Merrill Nisker was trying to encourage her students to push their creative boundaries and think outside normal conventions in performance. She never imagined she’d be doing it globally. “I never even expected to have a career in music,” she admits.

And now look, I say. She gives me a polite closed-mouth laugh in response.

On I Feel Cream, Peaches has reached out to collaborate more than ever before. While she enjoys working alone, she found working with other artists tremendous fun. “I approached different people for different reasons. I approached Digitalism for the song Mommy Complex which is a song about, hmmm, you know, – œWho’s your Big Mama?’ It goes through all those things about guys who would rather have a mommy than a girlfriend. I thought if I used Digitalism’s bombastic sound that would bring it up a notch. I wanted something very specific from them.

“With Simian Mobile Disco we ended up writing some gentle music and,” she laughs, “that was fantastic for both of us. And with Soulwax, I had the song ready – it’s called Talk to Me, it’s kinda soul/electro – but I just couldn’t get a good production on it myself and so I asked them to work on that. There was different ways of working different people for different purposes. But always knowing what I want because I’m a control freak and” – she adopts a comically savage no-nonsense voice as if she’s shaking her fist – “no one’s gonna tell me what to do!”

I Feel Cream is out Saturday 2 May on XL through Remote Control Records.