No, not that Edie Sedgwick - this Edie Sedgwick.
You see, this Edie Sedgwick "is the transgendered reincarnation of a vacuous Andy Warhol Superstar who died of a barbiturate overdose in 1971."
The dysmorphic brainchild of one Justin Moyer, this li’l Edie pens cheap electroclash odes to celebrities both list-A and D, both dead or alive: Britney, Paris; Rob Lowe, Christian Slater; John Candy, O.D.B. And when ze succeeds, hir 8-bit paens inevitably end up saying something profound about that cult of personality to which our society so desperately flings. But even when sie fails, hir panegyrics are just so goddamn catchy that it doesn't right matter.
Who knows? It could all be one hilarious inside joke, with Moyer's tongue planted as firmly in his whisker-rouged cheek as his cock's duct-taped to his ass. After all, Moyer lives in Washington, D.C. and most of his records are put out by the notoriously harDCore institutions there like Dischord and DeSoto.
At any rate, it's hard indeed to imagine Ian MacKaye or J. Robbins releasing anything not sopping with integrity and earnestness. And Moyer's been playing this type of zombie dress-up since his 2001 long player First Reflections.
Post by Logan K. Young