Dorian Electra put on a show for the kids who were told that they were a little too loud during class. Their performance felt liberating, energetic; almost religious. The Fine Line became a church for misfits. Opening the show was solo artist LustSickPuppy, as well as rap trio Siouxxie, who primed the audience with remixed circus tunes and a mosh pit akin to that of Dante’s Inferno. 

This show was all about community and connections. Before Electra, or even their openers, arrived onstage, I had found a group of fellow Radio K folks who were there as volunteers, as well as attendees. I found this sense of community to be comforting, and even my plus-one, a friend who isn’t involved with Radio K, was comfortable standing around and talking with complete strangers before the show. But it went beyond that; strangers mingled around the venue, talking to one another as if they had been friends for years. At the least, you would get a passing “I love your makeup” or “your outfit is so cool,” and at the most you would get a concert buddy who kept you in their group for the rest of the night. This crowd was unique, and every person expressed themselves differently, which is to be expected, as Electra’s music heavily centers around conceptual aesthetics. No two people looked alike, yet everyone was united on one front—the music.

As the opening acts cleared the stage, a sense of anticipation filled the room. This happens at every concert, and no matter how many times I feel this, it never gets old. Tonight was no different. As the lights dimmed, smoke machines revved, the crowd fell silent. I linked arms with two of my friends in a moment of both childlike excitement and solidarity prior to chaos. Electra opened their set with “F The World” while donning a leather outfit that was a mix of both armor and lingerie. Already, Electra’s stage presence and costume did not disappoint. For their second song of the set, “Live by The Sword,” they pulled out a comically-large, yet realistic and medieval-looking sword.

Their performance was not only about music, but about statements. In songs like “Ram it Down,” Electra played into and embraced every negative stereotype about the LGBTQ+ community in this liberating, campy, and downright queer (in every sense of the word) presentation. And in “Gentleman” critiques incel culture in a purposefully obnoxious and flamboyant display. The feeling of this show was like no other: freedom and liberation to be weird with or without cause. To call back to my opening thoughts, Electra makes music for those who have been told that their appearance, views, and lifestyle are “too much” and responds to that claim of “too much” by bringing even more to the table and never apologizing.

Review by Addy A, Photography by Grace W