"Electroclash," if you haven't heard the term, refers to a New York-centric musical genre that combines 80s synth-pop with New Wave electronica, and increasingly, overtly theatrical on-stage productions that involve elaborate "ironic" '80s-influenced costumes, Flock-of-Seagulls haircuts, and the obscenely gratuitious use of glitter and eyeliner. Aficionados would completely disagree with the last half of that description, but they're the sort of people that pair truck-driver hats with seersucker and "feather" their hair; their judgment is clearly not to be trusted. Nearly all are between the ages of 18 and 22.
I spotted Susan Sontag a few weeks ago at a hipster-infested album release party for Williamsburg electroclash band Fischerspooner and thought I was hallucinating, like usual. But an independently verified Sontag-sighting at Williamsburg electroclash mecca, Luxx, confirms it: Susan Sontag is a ginormous electroclash fan. (Ginormous isn't a word, but it seems oddly appropriate.) Gawker rules: two = trend. Other Songtag sightings should be reported to firstname.lastname@example.org. Maybe we'll do a map.
On a related note, Slate, ironically* uses a Sontag essay to indict Fisherspooner's album #1 as "the worst album of the year."