Twenty-five years ago, hip-hop/electroclash baddie Princess Superstar, aka Concetta Kirschner, was the queen of the scene with Princess Superstar Is, the album that AllMusic Guide’s rave review said “should mark her arrival” and spawned the global hit “Bad Babysitter.” But as recently as 2023, after years-long gaps between album releases, lapsed record deals, and diminishing returns — “I put music out, but it would fail. It would literally get a thousand streams,” she recalls — Kirschner assumed her career was pretty much over.
But then “Perfect (Exceeder)” — a 2007 mashup of Dutch dance artist Mason’s instrumental with “Perfect,” a track from Kirschner’s ambitious and prescient but commercially disastrous Princess Superstar Is follow-up, My Machine — appeared on the Saltburn soundtrack. And everything turned around. The song went viral, and Princess finally earned her first gold record in the U.S., 30 years after she started in the business. “I got my career back. It’s kind of like a miracle,” she tells LPTV, during an autograph signing at Studio City’s Licorice Pizza Records for the 25th-anniversary pink vinyl reissue of Princess Superstar Is.
“I was so grateful to have a second chance at doing music again,” Kirschner says. “When you’re an artist, that’s what you love, and it’s so painful when you don’t get to do it. Or maybe you get to do it, but on a smaller level and you’re just not reaching people really the way you want to. I was so excited to get it back. It was just flabbergasting.”
Princess Superstar has lived several lives, which is why she is currently writing what is sure to be her juicy, compulsively page-turning autobiography. Obviously, she needs save some of her stories for the book, but during her hilarious LPTV interview, she dishes about being labeled “Feminem” by the U.K. music press and winning over the white bros at late-‘90s/early-2000s hip-hop shows; the glory days of electroclash and the current “indie sleaze” revival; the aughts-era NYC rivalry between electroclash fans and followers of more “serious” bands like the Strokes; how her Grimes-approved sci-fi concept album My Machine, on which she worked with Todd Terry, Stuart Price, Armand Van Helden, Felix the Housecat, and Arthur Baker, was supposed to be her Tommy, and her dream to revive My Machine as a theatrical piece; dealing with industry ageism; discovering, mentoring, and producing a young Lizzy Grant, aka Lana Del Rey; opening for Morrissey in Serbia; hanging out in Grandmaster Flash’s supplements-stocked kitchen; wearing full daytime glam at Chipotle; and the plans for her new album, which will be her first since 2013.
LPTV: It’s crazy that it’s been 25 years since Princess Superstar Is came out.
PRINCESS SUPERSTAR: I know! I can’t even fathom it. I can’t believe it.
But what’s cool is your career is possibly bigger now than it was when that record came out.
It’s kind of true. It’s like one of those wild life stories, right? My career was kicking off back then with “Bad Babysitter.” It was No. 11 on the charts in the U.K., and I was touring in a big tour bus, and I did so much for that whole decade, the 2000s. And then my career sort of died. But then totally it got revived two years ago with the Saltburn soundtrack. “Perfect” was on it and went viral, and I got my career back. It’s kind of like a miracle.
You’ve used that quote before — that you “got your career back.” But I don’t think you ever really stopped grinding or working. There were big gaps between records, but it’s not like you were on hiatus. Or were you?
It was couple things. I mean, I was taking breaks because I was knocking on so many doors and they were just shut. It was really depressing. So, I gave up music for a little while. And then I was like, “OK, I’ll just be a mom,” which is amazing; that’s an incredible job. But inside, I was like, “I just want to do music again. Why is nobody letting me?” And then I was like, “I’m not going to wait for anyone to let me.” I was a scrappy kid in the ‘90s that started their own record label with zero money. So, I was like, “Let me just keep making music and I’ll put it out on Spotify. How do I use this thing now called Spotify?” I was so confused. And then I put music out, but it would fail. It would literally get a thousand streams. But I kept going. And I think that that’s the message I really love to give to artists — and to people. Just keep going. You just never know. Because when opportunity came, I was prepared.
I definitely want to get into that. But it’s interesting that you said you went to No. 11 in the U.K., you sound quintessentially American in the best possible way, like very New York. What do you think it was about British audiences that made them early Princess Superstar adopters?
I think they’re just forward. They’re just cooler. You know what I mean?
Yeah, they are. Obviously you’re not a novelty act, but do you think they were attracted to the novelty of your persona, of you being this street-tough New York broad?
Oh yeah, they loved that. They have such an amazing sense of humor. And yeah, I was this white-girl rapper. They called me “Feminem” or whatever.
There weren’t many female rappers back then, and even fewer white female rappers. Iggy Azalea had some success, but that was later. But you worked with Grandmaster Flash, Kool Keith, and Prince Paul, so obviously you did get taken seriously. What was it like blazing that trail back in 2001?
It was really hard, actually. You don’t, especially in this day and age, want to be like, “Oh, it’s so hard! I was white!” But it was hard being a woman doing this art form. I remember back then I would do these shows opening up for Dilated Peoples and Beanie Sigel and huge hip-hop [acts], because I was squarely in the hip-hop milieu. [The hip-hop audience] was all dudes. There were no women in these audiences, OK? I don’t know why, but it was dudes. … And it was, like primarily white dudes in the audience, too. In the early 2000s, the people going to the hip-hop shows were white dudes. And no girls. It was really weird. … If they liked you and you got a head nod and a shoulder, that was good. That’s why I started rapping over dance music, because electroclash was happening at the same time in Europe, and I was going all the time to Europe because that’s where I was famous. And I was like, “Oh, wait a minute. This is gay and sparkly and fun! Oh, fuck these [hip-hop] audiences.” So, I really just went straight into the electro thing because I was like, “I can still rap, but I need a better environment for me.” … And also, if [the white-dude hip-hop crowds] didn’t like you, they’d throw things at you — like dangerous things. This white guy in a Wu-Tang shirt threw a bottle at me.
Did you ever get injured?
No, because I could jump out of the way. I was like, “Nope, I’m not getting fucking hit by a bottle.” It was hard, hard, hard blazing that trail, for sure. But I just knew one thing: I wanted to rap. That was it. I didn’t know the politics. I didn’t know anything about that. I just was like, “This is the art form I want to do.” Because I love that with rap, you can do different things than you can with singing.” So, I was like, “That’s what I want to do.”
What was the first rap music you heard that inspired you?
I remember first hearing Kurtis Blow on the radio. It was like pirate radio. I was really young and I was like, “Why is this guy talking on the record? He’s not singing. He’s talking!” And I was like, “Dad” — because I was brought up on classic rock — “Dad, he’s talking. Why is he talking?” He’s like, “That’s rap,” and I was like, “Oh, that’s so cool!” And my dad was like, “Eh, I don’t really get it.” And I said, “But it’s cool, right?”
You spent a lot of your youth in New York, which was the perfect place to be raised on rap.
Yeah, late ’80s — it was so amazing. A Tribe Called Quest and all that. There was cyphers in Union Square and stuff like that. And then there was this record store called Fat Beats, which was the quintessential hip-hop store. … And yeah, so that’s how I got into it.
You mentioned electroclash. It was a short-lived movement in the aughts, but I think it’s coming back. Now people call it “indie sleaze.” You hear it in what Charli XCX is doing…
Or the Dare.
Yeah, I love the Dare. “I like the girls who do drugs”… the minute I heard that, I was like, OK, fun is back. And even though electroclash was short-lived and maybe not taken seriously by music critics at the time, I think it was very important. It was actually dominated by a lot of women, like Chicks on Speed, Peaches, and yourself, and it was very sex-positive and queer-positive. I’d love to hear your memories of that era. I think it was a lightning bolt in time.
It really was. It was so amazing. What I really loved the most about it was that you had all the music genres blending, and that’s something that I was always super-into anyway. You had punk with techno, hip-hop, classic rock. That was really when mashups started happening, like here in the U.S. with Z-Trip, and over [in Europe and the U.K.] with Too Many DJs. I remember hearing Missy Elliott rapping over AC/DC and I was like, “What the fuck is that? What is that?” Because that was really my childhood: I had the AC/DC, but I was also into hip-hop. And that’s part of why I wanted to become a DJ, which I did too, because I was so influenced by that. I loved that you could mash up everything. It was wild and free and fun, and it was a real kind of nod also to ’80s new wave, which I grew up on as well. It was just really queer and sparkles and fun, and not taking it too seriously.
Do you think there’s this “indie sleaze” revival because young people weren’t around for that era, and since they came of age during COVID and glued to their phones, they long for that sort of mindless, debauched fun they never got to enjoy?
Yeah, I think so. It was a really super-fun, amazing era. We didn’t have phones!
Well, we had Razrs.
Yeah, we had Razrs, but we were just more present, and they feel that. And I think nostalgia is always a thing. In the 2000s, we were nostalgic for the ’80s. But yeah, I think the [electroclash] fashion was sick, though.
And it was also not expensive. The fashion looked cheap, but in a good way.
We made things. We cut things up. We were wearing American Apparel.
I almost felt like the electroclash backlash was similar to the “disco sucks” backlash of 1979. Disco also was powered by a lot of women, queer artists, and people of color, and it got dismissed as cheesy and vapid. But now everybody loves disco. Maybe that is also why electroclash is getting its due now.
It’s funny you say that, that because there was like a kind of seriousness coming out of New York, which was like LCD Soundsystem and the Strokes — that kind of crowd looked down on us, like electroclash was embarrassing, that it wasn’t music of substance. They were like the cool kids, and we weren’t as cool. It’s funny, I forgot about that.
Everything was more compartmentalized then. Now no one cares about genre loyalty and tribalism. Kids today will like Doja Cat and Geese, or whatever.
Exactly. I wasn’t really in the New York scene too much. I was in Europe a lot. I’m writing this song with Digitalism called “I Was in Berlin” and it’s about what we’re talking about now. I wasn’t even in New York. If you read that book Meet Me in the Bathroom, I’m not even in it.
I guess you never really fit neatly into any genre.
I know. I do sit in a funny place, because I come from hip-hop and then I went over into dance, and I became a DJ. People don’t really know where to put me.
Well, now is a good time for you to be back, because everything’s a little more genre-fluid now. Let’s talk about your career timeline. Princess Superstar Is got a lot of attention, but then four years passed before you released another album. And then it was like another five years until the next one. Why did your momentum slow?
That’s a great fucking question. Basically, after the success of “Bad Babysitter,” we’re like, “OK, we need the next single.” Everybody thought it was going to be “Keith ‘n Me.” We made a really funny video, and it was with Kool Keith, who’s like a legend. I was so excited to work with him, especially because us kids loved “Blue Flowers” and Dr. Octagonecologyst. I was like, “This is going to be huge!” But then it didn’t pop off. We’re like, “Oh shit, what are we going to do?” And I was like, “Well, the next thing I really want to make is like a science-fiction concept record.” And everyone was like, “Oh no, don’t do that.”
What could possibly go wrong?
Right? And I was like, “I’m going to make my Tommy.” And everyone’s like, “Oh, God…”
I still want you to make an electroclash musical, with the electroclash kids and the Strokes kids having a fight, like the Jets versus the Sharks.
Well, that would be sick. [Singing West Side Story-style] “When you’re a Stroke, you’re a Stroke all the way…” But anyway. I decided I’m going to make this crazy-ass record. I was just then transitioning from hip-hop into electroclash, so I was like, “Let me work with all the best producers.” And I could, because everyone loved “Bad Babysitter.” I got Todd Terry, Stuart Price, Armand Van Helden, Felix the Housecat. And I got Arthur Baker to be the executive producer — who did “Blue Monday,” for crying out loud! And I’m like, “OK, it’ll be a concept record, but it’s going to be the shit.” I made My Machine and it was so many tracks [25], and it took me so long because it was a story. I did that in London with Arthur and everybody, and by the time that it came out, nobody really cared about me anymore.
But then we put out “Perfect” as the single, right? Basically, we put the a capella of “Perfect” on the vinyl, because that’s what you did as a hip-hop person — you put your a capella on your single vinyl. And thank God I did, because that album totally flopped. It flopped so bad that I was on tour and I had this really cool live show that I actually did at the Echo here in L.A. in 2005; it was one of the last few places I did it. It was a theatrical thing that I totally envisioned, and the label pulled out their tour support in the middle of tour. They’re like, “This record’s not selling, so that’s it, we’re canceling all the dates.” That was devastating. But two years later, they called me up and said, “Somebody put the a capella of ‘Perfect’ over [Mason’s] ‘Exceeder’ and it’s blowing the fuck up in England. It’s now No. 3 on the U.K. charts.” This was 2007, two years after the album, and that catapulted me back into the spotlight again. But it was a really weird thing because the label, Ministry of Sound, didn’t put me in the video. People were like, “Wait, the ‘Bad Babysitter’ girl is the ‘Perfect’ girl?” I don’t know, my branding got all fucked-up.
Wasn’t your last album released in 2013?
Yeah, I was always really kind of slow on the making of records, which in retrospect I wish I wasn’t, but it is what it is. What’s really cool is now I’m working on my next record, my first full-length in 13 years. … I’m working with amazing producers like Oscar Scheller, who produced Pink Pantheress; he’s got a No. 1 right now with Pink Pantheress and Zara Larsson. I also have a song with Hervé who made Princess Superstar’s song] “Licky” and [worked with] Rye Rye. Laidback Luke is one of the producers, and also Konstantin who produced [Tones and I’s] “Dance Monkey,” which was a global No. 1 in 40 countries. I’m trying to mix up the old-school and the new. Let’s see what it does. It’s a really fucking amazing record. I’m so grateful for it. I don’t know what it’s called yet, but I’m toying with Her Magnum Opuss, spelled O-P-U-S-S.
I feel now that you said it on camera, now that it’s out there, that has to happen! That’s a pretty great title. But I know you’re playing May 30 at the Echoplex with Lords of Acid and Mz Neon/a>, but can you do please another sci-fi one-off show at the Echo, so I can see it? I missed that Echo show in 2005.
My dream is to revive My Machine as a theatrical piece! That is one of my dreams. I do love the story, and I think it actually was kind of a little psychic. I mean, even Grimes tweeted that. I forget what she said in the tweet, but it was something like, “My Machine is totally today.”
What was the My Machine storyline?
It was about a megalomanic artist who wants every single position on the chart — of the book chart, the music chart — wants to win all the Grammys, all the Academy Awards. And so, she makes clones of herself so that she can have all of that. It’s really about artistic ego, but it’s also more than that. It’s about ego and the death of the ego, and also a lot about corporate branding.
You basically predicted the future. It’s your fault!
Yeah. I predicted the future. Sorry. Sorry.
I am kidding, but seriously, did you see something on the horizon that pop culture was going in that direction?
I could already see that it was already happening!
Well, I would absolutely love to see a production of My Machine in 2026. But since everything’s coming together for you with the past and the present, I have to ask, how exactly did the whole Saltburn thing come about? From what I’ve seen on your social media, you were not expecting it.
It’s a Cinderella story, for sure. Basically, they emailed and asked me to use it. I had no idea what it was. People ask me all the time to use “Perfect (Exceeder),” so I didn’t think anything of it. I basically always say yes. They used it and I didn’t hear anything, and then it was Christmastime and my daughter was scrolling on TikTok and she’s like, “Mom, your voice is all over my feed and it’s so annoying!” I was like, “Is it that pigeon thing?” Because previously there was a pigeon filter and everyone was dancing to “Perfect.”
@therealprincesssuperstar I am absolutely loving that this pigeon filter is trending to the song i wrote in 2005. As an artist, you hope to create deep and meaningful music that will last for generations. I see that i have achieved that -now with this pigeon meme I can die knowing i did everything i needed to do on this earthly plane #pigeonfilteristrending #pigeonfilter #perfectexceeder #perfectexceederpigeon #2000sthrowbacks #2000sdance #2000skids #hitrecord #onehitwonders #pigeonlovers ♬ Perfect (Exceeder) – Vocal Club Mix – Mason & Princess Superstar
That sounds like some feelgood, wholesome content.
It was! I’m proud of my pigeon filter. But no, it was Saltburn. Everyone was obsessed with Saltburn. and then it just snowballed. And then the label reached out — the label that never talks to me. I was like, “Why are they emailing me?” And then I got a booking agent, I got a manager, I got signed to Universal Publishing. It was crazy.
And I loved how on social media you were not shy when expressing your joy about this, and how you were really milking and embracing moment. You were so excited.
That was because I was so grateful to have a second chance at doing music again. When you’re an artist, that’s what you love, and it’s so painful when you don’t get to do it. Or maybe you get to do it, but on a smaller level and you’re just not reaching people really the way you want to. I was so excited to get it back. It was just flabbergasting.
Your social media in general is so entertaining. I recall around the time when Saltburn was blowing up, some tabloid like the Daily Mail ran a clickbait article saying you were “unrecognizable” — when, by the way, you were completely recognizable, you pretty much looked the same — and you called out their stupid ageism in the funniest way.
Yeah, with the [fake] rotted teeth and stuff. That was fun. I actually love all that; I think it’s so hilarious. I forget what famous person said this, like Mae West maybe, but the saying is: It’s bad when they’re not talking about you.
But that sort of ageism is so lame…
Right? What am I supposed to look like? I’m older!
Have you had to deal with ageism a lot in your career?
A little bit. I mean, I think no matter how you slice it, music is hard. So, if you add aging onto it, yeah, for sure. But what am I going to do? I’m not going to complain, because again, that’s like complaining about being a white person in hip-hop or whatever. You can’t really complain. This is the way the world is. I’m going to fucking keep doing my thing and either bust through or not. I have a new single, the one with Konstantin, called “Tough Titties.” That’s the name of it. So, it’s like, tough titties, dude. You gotta just show up. Who cares what the world is doing? You’ve got to follow your passion.
I love that you released a song called “Gettin’ Older (Pussy Still Pop)” for your 50th birthday. That’s the best way to celebrate.
And that was one of the ones I put out that got zero response!
Well, maybe now it will finally get a big response. I feel like anyone who’s unhappy about turning older needs to make that their anthem. It needs to be the new birthday song that people do at karaoke or whatever. Celebrate that your pussy still pops even though you’re 50!
There is no expiration date! There’s no pussy-pop cutoff date!
You are the queen, or the princess, of reinvention. You have always been a visionary. Weren’t you also instrumental in Lana Del Rey’s career when she was Lizzy Grant?
Yeah. My husband actually found her. I was producing artists at the time. It was like 2007 and he’s like, “You should produce her.” And I was like, “Oh yeah, she’s amazing.” And I was like, “You should do a vintage thing, like a James Bond girl thing,” and I slid her in that direction. And then I introduced her to her manager, who’s still her manager to this day, Ben [Mawson]
Do you still produce other artists, or would you like to?
Well, I’m a lyricist. I like to write melodies and words, and that’s what I really love to do more than produce. I actually did just take on this artist to produce him [Moses Thee Artist], but in general, no, I don’t really feel like it.
Speaking of writing, is it true you’re working on your autobiography?
Yeah! I just got a little, tiny book deal with this U.K. publishing house. … I’m actually nervous about it.
It’s going to be great. I think during this interview we’ve only scratched the surface of the stories you could tell. What’s the biggest pinch-me moment of your career? What’s like the biggest “Holy shit, I can’t believe that was my life” moment?
I think it was when I got to open up for Morrissey. I was like, “Dude, I’m going to die. I’m going to die.” Because I was like a little like 16-year-old emo kid listening to Meat Is Murder and crying. That was crazy. It was in Serbia. And I’m opening for Morrissey. I’m like, “What is even happening?” I really don’t remember much from that day except for the fact that I was DJing and I forgot to paint my nails, and the jumbotron kept showing my hand. And I was like, “Morrissey, Morrissey.” I couldn’t even be present because I was just so in love with Morrissey. So, that was something special. And then working with Grandmaster Flash was also a pinch-me moment, because this is the godfather of hip-hop. I was so nervous. And his studio was below his kitchen, so you have to walk through the kitchen, and it was just supplements everywhere. He doesn’t age. He’s very healthy. I saw all of his supplements, and I was like, “I can’t believe I’m in Grandmaster Flash’s kitchen. What am I doing here?”
So, you have the memoir, the science-fiction musical revival, the electroclash Sharks/Jets musical, the Her Magnum Opuss album, and also your tour with Lords of Acid and Mz Neon. That’s a lot, but do you have anything else going on?
Just trying to take care of myself, and take care of my daughter.
How does your daughter now feel everything going on with your career right now?
She loves it, but also she’s 14, so it’s also somewhat cringe. Even coming over here [to Licorice Pizza Records], there’s a Chipotle right near here and she was like, “Mom, that’s an embarrassing outfit for Chipotle.” And I’m like, “OK, that’s going to be the name of my new record!” Embarrassing for Chipotle.
Well, you’re not regular a mom, you’re a cool mom. And I’m sure she realizes that.
