Record Review - 3 October 09 2003

For Fatherfucker, the follow-up to 2000’s proto-electroclash debut The Teaches of Peaches, Canadian-born former schoolteacher has apparently abstained from going back to the thesaurus, and the drawing board. Far from a schoolmarm these days, Merrill Nisker (aka Peaches) is still humping that familiar skanky panky beatbox as Berlin-based, potty-mouthed provocateur. But with Fatherfucker, Nisker has added some guitar meat to her MiniDisc and brought pink hot pants hesher Peaches back to bang another round of minimal groovebox grind.

For all the fuzz-faced raunch, Fatherfucker is an improvement in production: The brittle beat’s bamboo-cane crack is increasingly well paced. But the seemingly unbridled “rawk” seems premeditated. The brutal, clipping scuzz riffs of one-trick pony “Rock ‘n’ Roll” aren’t far removed from Teaches’ “Rock Show,” though “Kick It” (featuring Iggy Pop) is successfully reverent raw power. In all this booty bounce, overtly vulgar tracks such as “I’m the Kinda” and “Shake Yer Dix” are the weakest, while Fatherfucker’s last three tracks — “Back It Up, Boys” “The Inch” and “Bag It” — are equally perverted but manage near sensuality thanks to creeping suggestiveness.

Fatherfucker’s best function is its subtlety. The predatory howl of “Operate” chugs along to a Throbbing Gristle-ish loop and “Tombstone, Baby” reverberates with Suicide’s shadowy rockabilly strut. By album’s end, Peaches actually manages a push/pull dynamic as opposed to Nisker’s more traditional shove.

Peaches plays the Echo Lounge Mon., Oct. 13. $12.