Electric Six live at the Academy | Review
Trashy disco fun. That’s what Electric 6 are made of. It’s what they do and it’s exactly why we love them. Its sexually aggressive disco rock played to an audience of Pink flamingos, or at least that’s how it felt to be there. Standing around in clusters the audience were attempting to pull themselves out of the hypnosis they had fallen under. The support was captivatingly weird, like listening to a mad homeless man scream obscenities at furniture. Except in this case the furniture was a beautiful woman and his clothes were collage of old Whitesnake album artwork.
As the gyrating disco-dome that was Andy -D retired off stage the crowd began packing in – stubbing cigarettes outside and spilling beer on their sleeves, everyone was itching for some signature Dick Valentine stare’s, and boy were they not disappointed.
“We have nine albums, and we need you to buy a copy of every one”. They began with Nom de Plume from their most recent album ‘Mustang’, a classing cheesy rock anthem full of horror cinema synth warming the crowd into the weird and familiar vibe of Electric 6. Thankfully the crowd wasn’t filled with ‘goldefish memory’ fans shouting ‘Gay Bar’ till they were hoarse and old heads began nodding appreciatively in anticipation.
From there on in it was classic ‘six’ tunes all night. ‘Shes White’, ‘Improper Dancing’, ‘Down at McDonaldz’, each song pulling the crowd into a nostalgic toss of bodies, beer and boobs (Not that any were actually seen but they were there in spirit). Dick Valentine’s signature nonchalant pacing and infamous audience stares featured and by the time ‘Danger! High Voltage’ came around the sweaty foreplay was over and a palpable sense of elation charged into the crowd. Feet leaped into the air and mouths working in overdrive, screaming the chorus.
Midway through the set a timed body emerged from the back of the stage holding a cow bell. The band had set up a ‘kickstarter’ to have the chance of playing the infamous ‘Gay Bar’ on stage with the band. Three had raised enough money, one from the States, and two from our little town of Dublin. It was a mini moment of national pride, except ‘Amhrán na Bhfiann’ had been replaced by one of the ‘danciest’ homo-erotic tunes in history, played not once but twice. Like a musical ‘round-two’. A short rest was allowed for in between Valentine before crashing back in, like a student protest on ecstasy.
‘Dance Epidemic’, ‘Adam Levine’ and ‘I Buy the Drug’ saw out the remainder of the set-list each one as tasty and as strong as a Long Island Cocktail with a little umbrella in it, complimented by Valentines gruff theatrical vocals and solo’s worthy of soaring eagles. Leaving and returning to the stage, for I would imagine a small epipen injection of snake adrenaline ‘Electric six’ finished off their encore with ‘Dance Commander’. And, like all good soldiers of ‘six’ the crowd obeyed the dance commander’s orders for fun, swaying and thrashing the last piece of life they had left in them. A great gig, a sweaty gig, an annual staple as important to ‘Electric six’ fans as Christmas is to children.