By Jonah B. Lossiah
lossiahworks@gmail.com
In April, American musical artist Dorian Electra released their fourth studio album. The self-titled work comes nearly three years after their previous album, Fanfare. Electra just began the European leg of their new tour and will be performing in Amsterdam on 25 May, when they will be playing the Bovenzaal at Paradiso.
How does one become an artist? Does it start with how you look? How you sound?
I believe everyone is born with artistry. Eventually we decide ‘what we want to do when we grow up’, but then there are those that will always create. For themselves, for others, for the sake of distorting the life around us. This is Dorian Electra.
I would group Electra in with the most effortlessly creative people in the world of music. Every album, outfit, and idea they present feels thoughtful. It’s not pompous, it’s not better than anyone. It’s raw, it’s real, it’s Dorian. Their first album, Flamboyant, was just that. With a blue colour palette and the establishment of the classic Electra moustache. Everything was fresh and exciting about their sound. My Agenda was dark, brutal, and alive. It’s as fun and vicious as we’ve seen Electra, and the style choices for this era pushed the envelope even further. Black leather and green everywhere. That My Agenda music video is burned in my mind forever. Then came Fanfare – regal, sexy, over the top. Reds, yellows, and golds. Grand commentary and more stage presence. Dorian is no longer opening for Charli at Paradiso in Amsterdam; they are headlining Paradiso (and DJing in the basement afterwords).
Electra during a My Agenda photoshoot.
We arrive in 2026, seven years after their debut, and the next step should be to push things further, right? Are we going to be orange this time? Even louder? Or shall we do the Dorian thing and deny expectation?
A grey, self-titled album constructed of covers – that’s just perfect.
For artists, expectation is often an evil. Once a ‘standard’ is set, the mental gymnastics begin. We see some artists make themselves miserable trying to match what fans and critics might want. With Electra, the standard has seemingly been to try to top the previous effort. Grander production, new fashion, bigger rollouts and stages. That was three years ago, and the drive to continue can be daunting.
An album of covers was unexpected for me, yet I have found myself enthralled with it since its release on 22 April. For me, these 10 tracks symbolize freedom, varied skill, and an artist who will always create for themselves. It is always so impressive to me when a cover can pay homage to an influence while being unmistakably a product of the new artist. Each of these tracks is an honest display of respect for the original while still being Dorian-coded. The expanding production, the versatile vocal stylings, the digital depth. With a runtime just under 29 minutes, it’s such an easy listen as well.
The track list for Dorian Electra covers a wide range of eras in 10 songs. We start with the earliest in 1965. Bob Dylan is one of the last artists I’d chose to display Electra’s musical influence, and that’s why it’s a fantastic start. Like the album as a whole, it flips expectation and establishes a new one. Electra enlists the production brilliance of Frost Children – one of the most exciting acts out of the United States. Together they change a folk classic into a distorted and swelling piece of hyperpop.
Hips Don’t Lie is almost too good of a choice and made it clear to me that Electra planned to put on a FUN show on this new tour. That is multiplied, in my opinion, when you observe the venue selection for said tour. Electra has their first European headline tour under their belt now, and they knew the stages they wanted to perform. They picked intimate rooms that will allow for so much expression and connection to their fans. It’s an easy bet that Shakira is going to get the people going. I’m fully convinced of that after hearing this cover that turns the track into something that almost sounds like it was on brat.
Recycle a lot of that last graph for Feel Good Inc. A track that took the world by storm over two decades ago and lived rent-free in people’s minds. Now instead of being even a little chill, we add a driving, buzzy rhythm to the whole thing. There is also the wonderful addition of a plunking bucket or something of the sort – now we are working cooking with gas. It’s even more of a freaky dance gem now.
This is part of a three-track run of dance tracks to get the album kicking. There is also No Doubt’s Hella Good, where Dorian tackles the vocal stylings of Gwen Stefani. This track is ideal for the wave Dorian was riding during the Fanfare era. Dance, pop, punk, sex. The vibe strikes me in a similar way that anon and Sodom & Gomorrah did on that last record. It rocks.
Only two tracks don’t lean into that upbeat, dance feel. The opener is one, and sitting in the middle of the tracklist is Scarborough Fair. Not too surprising considering both tracks are from the mid-1960s. Yes, Scarborough Fair is a traditional English folk song, but this seems to be a cover of Simon & Garfunkel. Again, with Electra’s version the light from the original is gone. Instead, it’s electronic and droning, and a bit haunting too.
No song is transformed as much as Caribbean Blue. Originally a stunning atmospheric work with soaring vocals by Enya, Electra did what they do best. The first seconds introduce a thumping bassline that makes you feel like you’re in a basement rave. There’s almost a Grimes element to the track as well. It’s a trancing, digital bop. Hilarious and wonderful.
Now, I do hope the Shady stans don’t berate me – but Dorian’s cover of Without Me is the most I have enjoyed Eminem’s work in decades. I honestly couldn’t believe what I was hearing on first listen, but it just works perfectly with Electra’s skill of managing the absurd. It’s a track that doesn’t give you a second to figure anything out. You just dive right into the silliness and have fun. In fact, by the end I was shocked by how natural it sounded. I wouldn’t mind a couple more.
The Model is such a fantastic pull from Kraftwerk’s discography. Not a surprise that they would be influential for Electra, but to see it find a place on this album put a major smile on my face. This might be the closest like-for-like cover in the set. Electra stays pretty close to the source material, adding the darker edge and moodier vocals that theme the rest of the record. However, there is a slight dub element that I don’t recognize from the original. Dub is an iconic aspect of that ‘70s era, as well, and it really does work here.
We return to the 2000s for the youngest reference on the album, Peter Bjorn & John’s Young Folks. This indie classic is turning 20 this year, if you can believe it. The original track prominently features a shaker and rapid drum hit that gives a surprising pace to a mostly relaxed song. It’s my interpretation that Dorian heard that shaker and immediately translated it to drum and bass in their head. It’s so brilliant and subtle. The slightly hushed singing is fantastic, and the track morphs into a woozy head piece by the end. Regarding musical structure, this might be my favourite moment on the album.
We finish the project with a nod to New Order and their 1986 track Bizarre Love Triangle. Where we began the album with a question mark that Electra made work, this closing track simply makes a lot of sense to me. Dorian seems to love playing with the essence of a song. Stretching it, distorting the mood, and snapping it back. On almost every song on the album, Electra shifts the identity of the track. From light to dark, slow to fast. It culminates in this final song, which is naturally so bright, driving and emblematic of the 1980s. Electra’s version harkens back to the start of the album, starting slow and building. The track develops throughout, adding glittering synths and opening the soundscape bit by bit. There is a moment where you forget that anything about it is supposed to be a cover. A beautiful way to end the album.