The Herald Glasgow (February 20, 1999)
The Creatures, King Tut's, Glasgow
ODD business, pop. Simultaneous with the British charts being topped last week by one fiftysomething former new wave diva, Deb bie Harry, Glasgow was witnessing the sorry spectacle of anothe r former new wave diva, the fortysomething Siouxsie Sioux, late of the Banshees, having to downsize the venue for her
Thursday night show by 75% from its original 800-capacity location.
So what is it that Debbie and her Blondie cohorts possess that is apparently so lacked by Siouxsie and her percussionist co-part ner in the Creatures, Budgie?
Judging by Blondie's chart-topper , Maria, all the Creatures need to entrance the nation is an ai r of trite and vapid bounciness. Because the Creatures continue to do what they began doing 20 years ago: ie, crank out a spoo ksome wall of tribal suburban voodoo utilising Siouxsie's harro wed growl and Budgie's thoughtfully-oppressive polyrhythms.
Naturally, the folk who dig this vibe are a mite more marginal. In deed, your typical Creatures-devotee is a Gothic-punk throwback clad in black leather; fishnet; studs, and chains - although o n Thursday's evidence most of the audience were actually twenty somethings, which bodes well for Siouxsie's future.
Paradoxically, however, Siouxsie's songs are hope-free affairs. Fish float dead; bodies either lie cold or become hotly mashed by enterin g the loving steel embrace of a speeding car. A glam vixen in b lue eyeshadow and silver PVC, Siouxsie on Thursday stalked, moa ned, and fluttered like a mesmeric seaside landlady. Greet thin e sepulchral hostess at the Bide An Eternity B&B (every room en suite; tea-making facilities; parking; access to dungeon). If only Debbie Harry were half as singular . . .
Contributed by Jerry Burch.