After nearly a year in which it was available only abroad, Electric Six‘s sophomore effort, Señor Smoke, has finally been released domestically. Those of you already familiar with Electric Six who didn’t feel like ponying up $30 for the import will know this is a time for rejoicing, and an album purchase.
Those of you who aren’t familiar with Electric Six will have to be convinced, and this will take a certain measure of doing, because while Electric Six are a hoot and a half, they defy categorization. (I suspect that a causal relationship between these two facts exists, but I’m not sure in which direction.) It might help to imagine a band that does for a certain variety of pompous, chest-puffing, late-70s rock what Elvis impersonators do for Elvis — poking fun and showing a certain kind of backhanded respect all at once, through a sort of exagerrated homage. There’s a definite degree of ridicule directed toward the most egregious excesses, but there’s an undeniable measure of affection, too. I’ve always thought that you can’t really parody something effectively unless you secretly love it, just a little, and I think Electric Six offfers proof.
In any case, they’re going to be playing at The Independent in March. I’m going. I’ve never seen them live before. I cannot wait.