On a rain-sodden afternoon in Soho, the Canadian musician known as Peaches finds herself stunned – no small thing, given that she’s made a career out of shocking others. For more than 30 years, Merrill Nisker has been titillating fans and taunting critics with electroclash hits such as “F*** the Pain Away” and her sex-positive, avant-garde gigs. After all, what’s a Peaches show without a giant flying vagina?
Still, the scene we stumble upon together is enough to give even her pause. “I don’t think that man is alive,” Nisker whispers as we slink past an elderly gentleman on the staircase. “I’m going back up to check… hello?” She approaches him cautiously. He doesn’t move a muscle. Nisker is right: that man isn’t alive, rather he is a life-size, hyperrealistic sculpture. “Whoa…” mutters Nisker under her breath, shaking her mottled mullet in astonishment.
