Melody Maker (7.3.91)
Siouxsie and the Banshees
Town And Country Club,
London
The nice policeman who wants to arrest me a hundred yards from home because I'm so infuriatingly polite and articulate attempts to save face by amiably asking how the pop concert was. "Really good, yeah", I say. Then he says, "So you're sure you weren't just standing outside that church for 20 minutes then?"
But he is boring me now. I am thinking that I have just said the pop concert was really good yeah, spontaneously, without thinking, so now I must say so in print otherwise I will be arrested for telling fibs and not standing outside churches in the middle of the night. Siouxsie and the Banshees were really good yeah. It surprises me slightly but not hugely.
Wilde's rumours of Superstition being the greatest album of all time were of course grossly exagerated and displayed a level of senility which I sincerely hope I don't attain for another five decades, but the songs from said album come very much alive under the greasepaint, and as they do "Cascade" second number in I am well sold. I was well sold from Siouxsie's entrance anyway, which involved her stalking and shimmying in bearing a bouquet of violently red roses. If you desire more of a review than that then you and I really do have a communication problem.
So, okay, assuming we do have a communcation problem, The Banshees are not as feared, sad old glitterati was-beens rocking out, despite the appalingly dressed guitarist. They are full of joy and vigour tonight, rejuvination apparently is the word, and I'm all for it. I'm all for dear old Sioux being a posing pugilistic pop star--elegant but tough seems to be another phrase of the evening--and I'm all for new stuff like "Silver Waterfalls" and "Shadowtime" ("My favourite"--Sioux) sounding exhilarating and great. "Kiss Them For Me" is shuffling sapphires, at least. I show my age a bit by enjoying "Happy House" and "Dear Prudence" but then I figure that pop's a topsy-turvy cycle and you never know, things like that could even make me hip. I enjoy "Metal Postcard" without even knowing what it is until afterwards. That definitely makes me hip.
There are moments when Siouxsie is doing her spacky dancing and sweating and the chords go hhhrrrwoooommph like Big Rock Drama and it all makes imperfect sensuality. I like that too. "It's a wonderful life", announces our calmly stroppy hostess.
Like anything, it was all precisely as glamorous as it was in my head.
Chris Roberts