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The songs are about workplace homoeroticism. The bass is mind-melting. There are laser show interludes, and three costume changes in one concert. This is Dorian Electra at their finest.
Last Saturday night, the crowd at The Royale nightclub was about 69 percent gayer than usual. Emo teens in cat ears, cottagecore lesbians branching out in their witchy Demonias, and thirty-year-olds in flannel and fishnets were all existing in discordant ecstasy. For many concert-goers, dressing up is an integral part of the experience. The Dorian Electra concert was no different. It’s a way to express yourself, show solidarity with specific aesthetics or subcultures, and to become part of the show before it has even begun.
Wailing synths and deep bass thrummed through a screaming crowd as a raspy voice called out for Dorian Electra to take the stage. Then, a figure in tight black latex, a floor-length black cape, dagger-sharp shoulder pads, and what can only be described as a goth fedora appeared onstage. They stood frozen with their back turned to the audience, suffused in the acid-green stage light until the beat dropped, lights started flashing, and the crowd went wild. Special effects made the stage appear to glitch in and out of focus. Combined with Electra’s stylized choreography, Electra themself became like a pixelated, life-size avatar.
The concert began with “F the World,” the first song on Electra’s newest project, “MY AGENDA,” which pokes fun at toxic masculinity and online culture through a queer lens. In the song, Electra takes on the persona of a bitter incel who simultaneously hates and loves the world, using exaggeratedly violent imagery and tongue-in-cheek references to parody incel culture. Coupled with a fast, thumping beat, the song is both a dark look into the inner mind of an extreme misogynist, as well as an upbeat, hype vibe. These bops transitioned into the sparkly, cotton-candy tracks about being the perfect man such as “Barbie Boy” and “MY AGENDA” while the crowd chanted along.
Electra was joined by two backup dancers dressed in strappy black leotards who swayed, vogued, and waved rainbow pride flags, lifting Electra above the air like some kind of cyberpunk-inspired cheerleading squad. Electra also added humorously self-effacing, theatrical touches with exaggerated fedora hat tips and elaborate choreography performed with an actual sword.
Electra also performed songs from their debut album, “FLAMBOYANT,” such as “Adam & Steve,” a soaring, choral-inspired track about queer love, with lyrics like “God made me and Adam and Steve / And he loves me.” After the end of the concert, shouts of “One more song!” saw Electra back onstage to perform two songs, “Replay” and “Career Boy.” The latter, which parodies nine-to-five grind culture and capitalism, drew cheers of recognition from the crowd.
After the concert ended, people stayed and milled around, shyly complimenting each other on their glittery shoulder pads, cow-themed stockings, or pink latex two-pieces. Elsewhere, a trio of furries posed for pictures. When the house lights went on, the illuminated space revealed individuals of all ages and identities who had come together for a night of queer, campy catharsis. For these fans, going to a Dorian Electra concert isn’t just about screaming along to the lyrics like “Hit me with your ledger” and “I'm a very flaming flammable guy” and getting tinnitus. It's about being part of a community with a bunch of other quirky, glittery, proudly over-the-top fans. It’s about being yourself, whatever that looks like. At a Dorian Electra concert, everyone can be a flaming flammable guy. Or a Barbie boy. Or anything at all.
—Staff writer S. H. Kim can be reached at s.kim@thecrimson.com.
