party in tribute to Electroclash, the gayest genre of the Naughties, has flipped us into all-out bum-lust.
The object of our infections is Fischerspooner, the New York artcore scene's answer to the Pet Shop Boys; specifically, frontman Casey Spooner, who comes across (you) like Neil Tennant dragged from his dressing up box into a dungeon where the walls drip with semen, blood and engine oil.
As a performance artist cum actor cum honey-tongued singer, Spoony C embodies a modern day Renaissance man, only wrapped up in glitter, drag and drama. Like he told Suicidegirls, "I need it all. I need sensuality, I need intelligence, I need expression, I need physicality." Well said, Casey - now shut up and lick me.