Peaches - Rub
8/10
I don’t know this from experience but Peaches doesn’t have sex, she fucks. And she tells you about it. She gets into the studio with her producer; they fuck without actually having sex. Sometimes they feel good and the residue sticks. They blaze and hate and love and fuck for months. During that time they leave the studio because you they know the records needs space and they can’t remember what that feels like. Peaches goes out and lives a life. She makes love. She loves, then she hates. She meets people and she misses people. Sometimes she wants people around and sometimes she can’t stand it. She learns what distance is, what space is. When she comes back into the studio she vomits violent tenderness. Everything and nothing pours from every orifice. Sometimes the nothing and the everything form words. She spits them out, literally covering everything around her in spit, in bile, in cum. It’s vitriolic, it’s serious and it’s lighthearted. Peaches knows how to hate, “I want to cut you”, and that means she must know how to love too. “So much beauty coming out of my ass”.
The resulting record is pure and full. Of space. A stream of consciousness contoured by corporeal physicality, by coital misalignment, by being. Everything is just what it is. Nothing more and nothing less, but something.
8/10
