Pigeon Spins Featuring an Interview with Energy Whores

Energy Whores - Electric Friends  

A haunting parable of digital isolation from New York’s fearless electro-art provocateurs. Energy Whores’ catalogue has drawn acclaim from across the global independent scene for its fearless honesty. From the ‘Hey Hey Hate’ electropunk protest energy to ‘Pretty Sparkly Things’ hyperpop critique of consumerism, the band have earned a reputation as one of the most uncompromising voices in avant-electronic music, combining rhythm and rebellion with cinematic precision.

Interview with Energy Whores

“Electric Friends” feels like a haunting parable about digital isolation. What sparked the idea behind this track?

“Electric Friends” came from noticing how connected we look and how isolated we actually feel. We’re surrounded by messages, likes, avatars but so much of it lacks real presence or accountability.

The song isn’t anti-technology; it’s about that strange emotional gap where intimacy gets flattened into signals. It felt important to capture that quiet unease rather than scream about it.

The music is dance driven but the message is unsettling. Why is that contrast so important to Energy Whores?

Because that’s how the world feels right now. Everything is engineered to keep us moving, scrolling, consuming, even while things underneath are fractured or alarming. Dance music lets people in physically first. Once you’re moving, you’re open. That tension between pleasure and discomfort is where the song actually lives.

You’ve described your sound as avant electro. How would you explain that to someone hearing you for the first time?

We think of it as electronic music that isn’t trying to be smooth or nostalgic. It’s synth-driven and rhythmic, but it’s also restless, emotionally and sonically. There’s melody, but it doesn’t resolve in predictable ways. It’s art-pop and electro-art rock built to move bodies while keeping the mind slightly unsettled.

Energy Whores started in a DIY basement studio in New York. How does that origin still shape your sound and attitude?

That DIY beginning taught us not to wait for permission. When you build things yourself, you learn to trust your instincts and work with limitations instead of polishing them away. That mentality never left. We still value honesty over perfection and tension over gloss. The basement wasn’t just a space, it was a mindset.

Your catalogue tackles themes like injustice, consumerism, and authoritarianism. Do you see music as activism for you?

We don’t see ourselves as delivering instructions or answers. But we do believe music can interrupt complacency. If a song makes someone feel less numb, or more aware of what’s happening around them, that matters. For us, making music is a way of refusing indifference.

(•)> That's all, Folks! Check out Electric Firends on the Pigeon Spins Playlist