Alison Clancy, frontwoman of rock band Electric Child, is an unlikely newcomer to New York’s indie music scene. Originally a dancer, Clancy, 27, grew up in Northern California—“in a solar-powered cabin up a dirt road with no phone and no TV,” she says—before moving to New York in 2001 to attend the highly prestigious dance program at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts. She has performed at the Metropolitan Opera as a dancer in Les Contes d’Hoffmann; she also works in the NYC companies Zvi Dance and The Brain Factory. Her resume reads like that of an accomplished professional whose freelance dance career has begun to blossom.

But, in the past year, Clancy’s focus has shifted—or at least, expanded—to another artistic endeavor: namely, becoming a rock star. “She really does want to be the biggest star in the world,” says Roger Greenawalt, the record producer who also plays bass in Electric Child. The band, Clancy says, is a collaborative effort between herself and Greenawalt; however, Greenawalt is known for his penchant for identifying and grooming young talent (see The New Yorker article from April 7, 1997, on his discovery of Ben Kweller). According to Clancy, Greenawalt initiated the idea of “going into business” together after seeing an impromptu singing performance by Clancy at a party; in addition, he brought on drummer Ethan Eubanks and produces and mixes all of the band’s songs. A Pygmalion analogy seems appropriate, yet both Clancy and Greenawalt insist that, when it comes to songwriting, they are equal partners. “I’ve never been in such a collaborative process before,” says Clancy. “The songs wouldn’t become what they are without either of us there.”

L-R: Greenawalt, Eubanks, Clancy

Ultimately, it’s the music that matters—and the performance. And there, Clancy truly shines. Her quirky voice and somewhat nonsensical lyrics bring to mind Karen O (perhaps a more subdued Karen O, though Clancy does pull off the occasional scream). In any venue, she immediately assumes full ownership of the space by jumping off pianos, walking on tables, knocking over chairs. She improvises dance like a child playing in her own imaginary world, seemingly oblivious to the audience; then she engages a bystander in a spontaneous dance-off before returning to the stage and taking up the microphone again, missing nary a note. A lifetime of performance training has clearly paid off.

One could argue that, in this city, dancers who sing are a dime a dozen. (Broadway, anyone?) And still…there really is something…well, interesting about Alison Clancy. And something unique about the music of Electric Child. It’s totally bizarre and feels like it shouldn’t work…yet, it does.

Strange.

***

Original Hipster: How long have you been interested in doing music?

Alison Clancy: Well, I’ve always loved music, as a dancer. But I was always really intimidated and never really played as a kid. My final year [in college], I took a music recording class, and the first project was to write a poem and record a backing track for it and then just speak the poem over it. And I was so terrified. But, by the end of the semester, I was obsessed with writing and recording music. I was sneaking into the lab late at night and doing it all the time and just kind of became really into it.

I think something about being a dancer where you’re seen and not heard for so many years…you really are this kind of tool for someone else’s expression. There’s something about literally having a voice was just really exciting to me. I was actually like totally mute in college. I was kind of crazy and kind of mute. Then, something about, once I started opening, it was like WHOOOOSH!, and now you can’t get me to shut up. (laughs)

OH: How has your dance training informed your music and your performance as a musician?

AC: I think dancers inherently have a certain understanding of musical arc because you’re always responding to it. I think dancers think about music very differently in that way because it’s more of a feeling than a structure. It’s like, I need to feel this because this is what would be physically satisfying if I were dancing to it. Like, it needs to have this resolve, and then it needs to go this way, and then it needs to go that way because that’s what would feel good.

I feel like with dancing, it’s a way of connecting to yourself from the outside-in. You use spatial stimulation to become more and more aware of what you’re doing. Whereas with singing, it’s really going from the inside-out. You’re having to find, where does that sound come from? So, I feel like singing has been really good in balancing myself…I feel like it’s similar [to dancing], just kind of the reverse.

OH: How would you describe your music?

AC: We’ve been going with the term “electro punk murder disco”. But I don’t know if that’s really accurate. I feel like our songs, there’s kind of a big range. We’re still experimenting with different sounds and styles.

OH: And how would you describe your performance style?

AC: Basically, my dance style is, I’ve sort of mastered the style of chaos…I feel like naturally I have this wild abandon kind of thing. I look out of control, but I’m actually pretty aware of where I am in space. I’ve never actually broken or hurt anybody. There are people who are always scared that I’m going to. But I never do. Or at least not yet.

***

Electric Child performs at Mercury Lounge on January 6 at 9:30 p.m.

Anyway, as a result of this feeling of Southern nostalgia, I have assembled a playlist of Southern bands/artists I happen to like. You’re going to have to click the “Pop Out Player” button because this $%#&ing WordPress blog won’t post the entire playlist on this page. So, disable your popup blockers. Sorry about that. I’m working on it…

Ok, Paste. You got 50 slots to fill with what you thought were the best albums from 2000-2009. I wrote a top 10 list, so there were some great albums that just barely missed the cut–and they didn’t make your list, either, Paste. I mean, with 40 more slots to fill than I had, you could have at least included the following.

21. Gorillaz — Gorillaz (2001)

20. The Dresden Dolls — Yes, Virginia (2006)

19. Belle and Sebastian — The Life Pursuit (2006)

18. The Black Keys — Attack and Release (2008)

17. Stereolab — Chemical Chords (2008)

16. Muse — Absolution (2003, U.K./2004, U.S.)

15. The Raveonettes — Lust Lust Lust (2007, U.K./2008, U.S.)

14. Rufus Wainwright — Want One (2003) [made the Paste list]

13. The White Stripes — Get Behind Me Satan (2005)

12. Regina Spektor — Begin to Hope (2006)

11. Loretta Lynn — Van Lear Rose (2004) [made the Paste list]