What befits a princess? A diamond tiara? A silk gown? A glass slipper? How about a royal audience? But at 11 p.m., 30 minutes after the scheduled curtain time on a Friday night in Atlanta, an audience was one thing the princess in attendance — New York's Princess Superstar, specifically — was without.
Inside the venue, which usually hosts indie-rock shows, the only voices were those of the Blackbyrds, Rush, Blondie, De La Soul and a mix of hip-hop, trip-hop, drum & bass and rare groove coming from local DJ Swivel's turntables. But by the time the bawdy-mouthed Princess [born Concetta Kirschner) went onstage, a procession of about 100 people had gathered to offer enthusiastic applause.
Emerging in a flowing black bodysuit like a less glam, bleached Grace Jones, the petite Princess made her first regal decree. "Let's get this shit started! I've come all the way from New York to rock your fucking world!" she declared as she and her all-male band—DJ Alexander Technique, bassist Crash and MC7EVEN — kicked into "Super Fantasy," the first track off her fourth album, Is.
And what, you ask, is Princess Superstar? She is many things — label owner, producer, provocateur — but that night she was a body glitter-covered bottle-blond, part performer, part performance artist. A high degree of theatricality went into the show: props, costumes,choreography. She threw come-hither glances and fuck-off glares. She "Got Panache." She was "Wet!Wet!Wet!" She was "feeling your love." The songs said it all. But what said even more was the line that formed after the show as she came back onstage to sign autographs and talk to fans.
Words: Tony Ware / Photos: Ken Forsythe
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