A quarter century into her career, Peaches continues to push her distinct musical vision to thrilling new extremes. On No Lube So Rude, she sounds as brash and confident as ever, spitting head-spinningly raunchy lyrics over throbbing industrial beats that she describes as “maximalism through minimalism.”
“My music’s always been known for its very direct, sexually explicit lyrics, and for singing about body positivity and basic human rights, and this one’s no different,” she tells The Grind.
No different, and yet this record sounds remarkably contemporary, especially during a moment when younger generations are discovering and reviving the sounds of early 2000s underground electronic music. Call it indie sleaze, call it hyperclash — it all traces back to Peaches.
“At first, people were just like, oh, this is funny or weird,” Peaches recalls of the early days. “But people are realizing that I am not provocating, I am reacting to the absurdities of our lives and of our politics. I didn’t start the fire.”
Here’s the rest of our conversation, lightly edited for length and clarity.
Your 2000 album The Teaches of Peaches has been recognized by Polaris via its Heritage Prize designation, but this is your first time landing on the shortlist for new music. How does it feel?
I feel really seen, I feel heard, I feel enjoyed [laughs]. It feels good! You know, when I started out, my music was very confusing for people in Canada and in Toronto. And it’s nice to feel like it’s being understood now.
No Lube So Rude is your first LP in over a decade. How would you describe this album and how would place it in the wider context of your discography?
I wanted to call this album No Lube So Rude because it works on two levels. The first is a reference to what lube can literally do to level up sexual experiences. Some people think, “Oh, lube is just for gay men, or menopausal women who are dried up.” I wanted to say that lube is actually for everybody, lube brings ease and joy to sex. On a larger level, it’s about wishing there was a magical lube in the world that could help us smooth our way into understanding each other better.
You can hear echoes of your sound in newer releases by artists like Charlie XCX or Slayytter, Frost Children and others who fit into this new “hyperclash” sound. Do you think pop music is simply catching up to what you’ve been doing for the last couple of decades?
When I started, [my music was considered] very strange. But I planted a seed and people have grown it in all these different directions, and I’m not mad at it. I love that people are really expressing themselves, being who they need to be, and not hiding behind something. It’s been incredible to see.
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Like all your records, you have a knack for combining raunchy lyrics with searing political commentary. On this record, you’re singing about explicit sex acts in one second, and in the next breath you’re calling out Justice Brett Kavanaugh and the U.S. Supreme Court for their efforts to undermine reproductive and trans rights. How do you view the intersection sex and politics, and does it fit into your musical approach.
Throughout history, there have always been attempts to control sex, whether that’s through organized religion or through misogyny. Like, it’s 2026 and there is currently a movement [among some evangelical groups] in America to strip women from having a vote. I feel like there’s always this pressing down, a pressure that makes you feel shame about your body, about your sexuality, about your own identity. And that’s how white supremacy and facism becomes mainstream, by breaking down marginalized groups.
It’s very important to build ourselves up again, and do it through joy and humor so that people can find a way to feel good about themselves again, and feel good about the fight ahead.
There’s a quite funny line on “Panna Cotta Delight” where you reference getting older: “Yes, I’m old, solid gold /A woman in control of all her holes.” What was your approach to navigating this theme, especially within an industry and genre that is still dominated by younger artists?
I mean, people always love a fresh new face. They love a cute, perky little thing. And here I am writing songs about my hanging titties, and guess what you’re going to love those too. I want people to realize that pop music and pop audiences are larger than what we think, and we have to stop putting ourselves into these boxes.
People my age understand this because we grew up with punk, and so many other styles of independent music. It’s not like our parents or our grandparents, who were stuck in the 50s and thought it was so crazy to see Little Richard standing on top of a piano with eyeliner shaking his hips, you know?
Do you have a favorite track on this album?
I mean, they’re all my babies. They really are my babies. Right now we have a video coming up for “You’re Alright” so that’s on my mind. It’s kind of about pulling the curtain back on the Wizard of Oz and seeing that it’s just like an old white man who’s given up. That’s what it’s about, and there’s a whole spectacle about it, but it’s also just got a really banging beat.
If you were on the Polaris jury, what would you champion as the best Canadian album of the year?
Well, Slash Need is going to be representing me at the Polaris Gala, as I can’t be there, sadly. And so I would give big ups to them. [Slash Need’s 2025 album Sit & Grin was on the Polaris longlist.] I feel like they’re kindred spirits of mine. They’re pushing the limits of performance and I just relate to them.
Richie Assaly is one of the 200+ music experts who make up the Polaris Prize Jury.
