Sometimes, in my capacity as a journalist, I receive copies of albums in advance of their official release to the general public, though now that the “internet” “happened” this privilege is a lot less like sitting in the VIP booth at the club (though you should know that, as I type this, I am drinking champagne [oh oohhhh], and that the last time I drank champers it was poured for me in a glass by Damon Dash, before the bankruptcy rumors [it is entirely possible Damon Dash lost his fortune on champagne for private Jim Jones listening sessions]). Yes, I know what you’re thinking: Julianne you are soooo cool. However, there are a very few certain times when I receive an album in the mail in advance and am terribly anguished because I love it so much and want to share it with everyone I know and talk about it and live with it and make up dances to it and film said dances with the VHS camcorder (I regress). And yet I cannot because A. no one else has it B. I am not a leaker on GP C. if I were a leaker it would definitely end with me in front of a Def Jam firing squad because also my name is watermarked on the album they sent me. So I’m just gonna talk about it because everyone around me is fucking sick of hearing me play these songs already anyway. It’s by Electrik Red, an ensemble of four-lady badassery, and it’s only an EP, and though I’ve heard the entire album (in Gabe’s office), it’s entirely more satisfying and, corporeal i guess, when you actually have something to listen to constantly and annoy the shit out of your coworkers with.
As extensively documented here ca. 2004, I grew up listening to pop R&B, freestyle, electro, and lady hip-hop, mostly because of my dance teachers who would choreograph to Salt n Pepa (“Tramp”), Nia Peeples (“Trouble”), Pebbles (“Mercedes Boy”), Nu Shooz (“Can’t Wait”), Expose (“Come Go with Me”) et cetera. Electrik Red’s shit is generally rooted in this shit, as they clearly have a healthy Vanity 6 salivation-trigger, but occasionally their songs are also like a trancedance electro party in the stars. Stars as in This Galaxy. It was also written by The-Dream. Who is my favorite. As far as I’m concerned, Beyonce was shortchanged as hell on “Single Ladies” (which Dream wrote). She shoulda requested “Freaky Freaky,” the best song ever which Dream gave to Electrik Red, the one that sounds like classic Prince if he was kicking it a lot at Magic City (boom boom), and the one I cannot stop bumping as though tomorrow is armageddon and today’s my first kiss. It goes:
Now let’s get freaky freaky
Whoa whoa whoa whoa
Love when that DJ play my shit, my shit
Like this, like this
I rock, I rock
My hips, My hips
(You know that I love you ba-beh)
Now let it go, now now
(You hold me down like shackles bay-beh)
I know! On the page it doesn’t look like literary brilliance or um, even metaphor (never that), but like, how visceral can you get? It’s also all about the cadence and the falsetto and the crunk anthemitude and the choppy synths, sex/love/sex/love jam five thousand.
I just think they’re such terrific songs. You can also watch the video for their first single which is not the best song on the album by far, but every skraight dude I know gets a gigantor Madoff-debt-sized boner every time they watch this thing. It’s interesting cause like, they clearly wanna kick yalls teeth in… or not?! Whatever, to bring it semi-full-circle, the choreography is banging.
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In the video for ‘Electric City’ (again, insane choreography) it looks like one of them is wearing Vivienne Westwood. That, along with ‘We Fuck You’ and the bit in the “Drink” (Drank?) video where they Larry Craig it in the bathroom stalls, ripping out all the toilet paper and passing lipstick under the dividers, has forever changed my life forever and ever.