Scissor Sisters Warehouse Live April 4, 2011
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There are few bands that make Rocks Off grin like an idiot, and last night we officially added the Scissors Sisters to that short list. For the next few days we will probably be lamenting that we didn't dance enough, as if the band was a depleting resource. No we sound like their damned street team.
Mixing the sauciest Queen, trash disco, Emotional Rescue-era Stones, and a healthy dash of hedonism, the Scissors are either your worst homophobic nightmare come to life, or a confetti and glitter-covered workout of glam-rock proportions for a generation drunk on pop-punk, Britney, and Bravo. We prefer to say "fuck it" and get down with the glitter. We know who raised us.
Armed with music from last year's excellent Night Work, the Scissors came into Houston hot off a hitch opening for Lady Gaga, a prospect that makes this burly, hairy Little Monster giddy in all the wrong ways. The thought of the dance party that happened last night at Warehouse Live happening before a blood and nudity-filled Gaga show hurts our head.
The Scissors are fronted by Jake Shears and Ana Matronic, who come off like a demented Pee Wee and Miss Yvonne, and the secret word is almost always "sex". Opening with Night Work's title track, the band was well-oiled machine. The music breathes and screams, and it's relentlessly catchy. The shirtless guy in the leather chaps and heart-dotted underwear with the team of boys surrounding him seemed to approve.
There are times while watching the band live that you laugh out loud because, for one, the shit is so thick with sass that it sticks to you like perfume, and two, you feel like you are somewhere you maybe shouldn't be, if you subscribe to conventional male macho American paranoia. If you don't, and like us don't care who makes the music as long as our hips move, then the Scissors are your Led Zeppelin.
