Mojito Time With Dick Valentine

There aren’t many bands that we’ll beat you over the head with until you’re bleeding rivers of musical appreciation, but Electric Six will forever stand as an entry point to unwavering respect in the parts of our hearts that haven’t been charred out by the RIAA.

The problem, you see, is that we’ve pushed the E6 product hard, and the return has been a lackluster swell of support. And while we’re willing to own up to having some bizarre musical fascinations from time to time, this scenario calls for our favorite breakup line: it’s not us, it’s you.

So, in addition to posting this great new interview with frontman Dick Valentine, I’m going to build a word Voltron out of the praise & descriptives we’ve given the band thus far, in the hopes that its towering presence of fellatiatic magnificence will knock some sense in to the collective you, enough to finally give Electric Six a shot.

A few weeks ago we took our Angeleno asses up to San Francisco for this year’s Outside Lands Festival, and after having bathed in the sex-charged party-rock voodoo that Electric Six delivered early in the day, we spent a few minutes talking to singer Dick Valentine about Zodiac, the band’s upcoming seventh studio album.

As Dick explained, the band have a habit of making an album a year, which usually arrives in September. 2010 is no exception, except for the exceptional level of expectation-exceeding excellence found in the twelve magnificent tracks of Zodiac.

Have a hearty dose of standout new track Clusterfuck! to hear what we’re jabbering on about:

Here’s another taste – a song called Jam It In The Hole:

A bit of history: Electric Six first rose to power in 2003 with their debut Fire, torching both Taco Bell and the disco with their song Danger! High Voltage and laying to waste to the moth-eaten tapestry of party rock. They’ve since developed a cult following with their flair for hilariously irony-soaked lyrics, impossibly catchy tunes, on-stage aerobics and bizarrely awesome videos. Dick Valentine is the musical equivalent of a faith healer on ecstasy, the master of ceremonies and undisputed king of acerbic one-liners. His sex-rock hypnotics could turn a funeral into an orgy with the dead. All you need is a mirrorball and a microphone. And maybe some lotion.

They are an intentionally gaudy celebration of the absurd, embracing disposable culture and manipulating it to serve their disco-metal synth pop whims. This music is best for the kind of dancing one would only do in their underwear in front of the bedroom mirror, or on the dancefloor after a trip to the costume store and about nine margaritas.

They cause photosynthesis at night. They are ridiculous refined, a wide-eyed, sex-charged disco-metal beast, voracious for that sacred cow.

They are Electric Six.