Justin Moyer is a professional musician. That is to say, he makes his life and his living making music. He gets up, showers and shaves, and goes to work ... writing songs. So many, in fact, that his proper gig as one-third of DC's incredible El Guapo isn't sufficient enough an outlet. But it also may have something to do with the fact that his Guapo bandmates don't like it when he wears a dress and a wig, struts about in high heels, and rants solo to a backing band of an iPod.
One could argue that like Trouble Funk, this is an experience best suited to the live venue. After all, it's a lot of fun to watch a skinny white guy stagger about the stage in sequined shades and a zebra print dress. But in so doing, one would be ignoring the strength and sheer originality of the songs on this record.
"Originality" is something hack writers come up with when they can't quite pin an easy label on an artist's sound. But I've tried to explain this ... this band nine ways to Sunday, and come up with nothing more than a storm of beats, bleeps, and wizardly lyrics. Each song in Edie's oeuvre is named for a Hollywood celebrity, and cleverly, if sometimes obliquely, ties thematic elements of each actor's work into an incisive reflection on the "real" world beyond celebrity. It's high concept, boys and girls, but for the booty-shaking.
Visit her on the web at www.ediesedgwick.biz.
