November 23, 2010
@ The Warfield
Better than: Dancing on your own.
Last night at the Warfield, the Swedish lass delivered her hypnotic house-pop with an eerily mechanized efficiency. She bounced and twisted and punched the air with a shock-and-awe sexiness that could have been programmed into some clinically effective Intel-designed pop-star chip. Picture a just-this-side-of-androgynous Data (yes, from “Star Trek“), blonde mop, platform construction boots, goldish tights, love sensors turned up high in the CPU's emotion algorithm, full fuck-me vocabulary installed, whipping an 85 percent gay crowd into gyrating ecstasy. If last night was any sign, the impending vapidness of our tech-orgy future may at least be a pretty good time.