Siouxsie and the Banshees:
Reissues, the last four albums:
Universal:
All CD/DD:
Out Oct 27th:
For seventeen whirlwind years, Siouxsie Sioux's intense punk-goth-rock-pop outfit racked up an incredible eighteen Top 40 singles and almost as many chart-bothering albums, including compilations and live documents. Their final four studio-albums might not have been their most successful in terms of sales but creatively-speaking, they're perhaps the most ground-breaking.
I mention their singles record because every lead-off 45 from each of these albums was a perky blinder that paved the way for yet another change in direction - they also signified renewed interest from radio, that rare occasion when something exhilarating, something other-worldly would permeate Radio One's banal daytime play-listing. It's been a while since any of these albums had a CD issue and all now come armed with extra tracks, although given the amount of remixed material lying around, one could argue a case for all of them to have been deluxe doubles. No matter, they're all rather essential in their own way and worth shelling out for.
Through The Looking Glass - ★★★★★★★☆☆☆
The covers-album. As the series' sleeve-notes scribe Jon Wilde quite rightly states, established bands covering other people's songs normally denotes a crack in the contract, a flaw in the relationship betwixt label and artist. TTLG was rather a brave project - Sparks, Kraftwerk, Television, Iggy Pop were not the most obvious bands to cover at the time but the band admirably chose songs that had previously made an impact on their formative teenage years. They pretty much own Kraftwerk's Hall Of Mirrors to be honest. I'm imagining an extended club mix for this - I wonder if one exists (yet). As for covering a Disney song, in lesser hands the very idea might have resulted in trite hogwash. Here, Sioux trills her way through The Jungle Book's Trust In Me with considerable ease. She owns it, frankly. There are more surprises throughout this curious album well worth seeking out though sadly one of the bonuses isn't one of them - there's a reason why the distinctly average and non-album single Song From The Edge Of The World only reached #59.
Peepshow - ★★★★★★★☆☆☆
Golly jeepers/where did you get those peepers sounds more like a lyric from a '30s jumpin' jive classic, rather than a new Banshees album but in 1988, after a muddled Tinderbox left critics feeling cold two years previously and a covers-album alienated one or two fans, Peepshow and its opening gambit single Peek-a-Boo surprised many. Constructed from numerous re-recorded segments and snippets from other sources, then popped through the mangler with Siouxsie's vocals added afterwards with different effects for each line, Peek-a-Boo is aural Marmite for sure. I remember really liking it but preferring the follow-up The Killing Jar which failed to chart. As for the rest of the album, it sounds like it was created by a band having fun, without losing the trademarks people fell in love with in the first place. Carousel brandishes an air of menace yet displays a certain amount of childlike qualities, while The Last Beat Of My Heart retains the tribal undertones of earlier works. Ultimately though, Peepshow comes with some flaws - I've never been a fan of Ornaments Of Gold or Turn To Stone and they remain as forgettable as they did 16 years ago. The addition of Martin McGarrick's accordion throughout the album is a welcome distraction and overall, Peepshow is likeable without being outstanding.
Superstition - ★★★★★★★★★☆
If Peek-a-Boo was an unlikely start to 1988's Peepshow then the pitched-up breakbeat drum-sample lifted from Schoolly-D's pummelling P.S.K. (What Does It Mean?) 12" must have freaked a few onlookers out. Not exactly a fresh idea - PiL had already utilised the same beat for the U.S. remix of the single The Body a year earlier - Kiss Them For Me grew into something of an anthem when those tablas (Courtesy of Talvin Singh) and that melody kicked in. Along with Cities In Dust, Spellbound and Happy House, KTFM ranks as one of the Banshee's most enduring lead-off singles. And so begins 1991's Superstition, released at a time when e-addled kids were munching their way through disco-biscuits in the middle of a muddy field, dancing and gurning their way through the Rave culture. Suddenly Siouxsie and the Banshees were surplus to radio requirements and in danger of sinking fast. Thing is, Superstition is actually the best album of the four being reissued together in 2014 - it's poppy, it's relentless, it's a little bit computerized, a little bit dated in places but, songs-wise, memorable and strident. The first three tracks are the equal of any of their '80s recordings and Drifter is a brooding dead-ringer for something Goldfrapp might knock out, twenty yrs on. One of this writer's favourite ever Banshees singles, the shimmering Shadowtime, is resplendent and surely should have been provided them with another Top Of The Pops appearance. And for the record, I remember banging on about how Silly Thing should have been the third single - why Polydor chose Fear of the Unknown, I'll never know (good song though). Another rather pretty highlight is the concluding The Ghost In You, which reminds me of OMD's The Beginning and the End for some reason. Extras include the stunning Batman theme Face To face and two dance-floor friendly refixes of Kiss Them For Me, including the rare promo 12" by Youth.
The Rapture - ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆
By 1995, Siouxsie and the Banshees were approaching what was to be their swan-song era with The Rapture proving to be their eleventh and final album. First single O Baby sounds like The Pretenders meeting Bjork at a jazz club while much of the remaining songs dabble in shamelessly catchy grown-up pop, the best of which include Stargazer, the euphoric Fall From Grace, the dark and arousing Not Forgotten and eddying lullaby Forever. The title-track is also an interesting eleven minutes, a sort of sequence or triptych of ideas that kind of rounded up what the Banshees were about, by turns rapturous, intense and crepuscular. As for the rest of The Rapture, I'll leave it with you - there are times when the band's old spark ignites (Sick Child) and then subsequently sputters out (Love Out Me) making this parting gift something of an emotional and creative, often mythical roller-coaster. But that's The Rapture for you. That's Siouxsie and the Banshees.
Reissues, the last four albums:
Universal:
All CD/DD:
Out Oct 27th:
For seventeen whirlwind years, Siouxsie Sioux's intense punk-goth-rock-pop outfit racked up an incredible eighteen Top 40 singles and almost as many chart-bothering albums, including compilations and live documents. Their final four studio-albums might not have been their most successful in terms of sales but creatively-speaking, they're perhaps the most ground-breaking.
I mention their singles record because every lead-off 45 from each of these albums was a perky blinder that paved the way for yet another change in direction - they also signified renewed interest from radio, that rare occasion when something exhilarating, something other-worldly would permeate Radio One's banal daytime play-listing. It's been a while since any of these albums had a CD issue and all now come armed with extra tracks, although given the amount of remixed material lying around, one could argue a case for all of them to have been deluxe doubles. No matter, they're all rather essential in their own way and worth shelling out for.
Through The Looking Glass - ★★★★★★★☆☆☆
Peepshow - ★★★★★★★☆☆☆
Superstition - ★★★★★★★★★☆
The Rapture - ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆
By 1995, Siouxsie and the Banshees were approaching what was to be their swan-song era with The Rapture proving to be their eleventh and final album. First single O Baby sounds like The Pretenders meeting Bjork at a jazz club while much of the remaining songs dabble in shamelessly catchy grown-up pop, the best of which include Stargazer, the euphoric Fall From Grace, the dark and arousing Not Forgotten and eddying lullaby Forever. The title-track is also an interesting eleven minutes, a sort of sequence or triptych of ideas that kind of rounded up what the Banshees were about, by turns rapturous, intense and crepuscular. As for the rest of The Rapture, I'll leave it with you - there are times when the band's old spark ignites (Sick Child) and then subsequently sputters out (Love Out Me) making this parting gift something of an emotional and creative, often mythical roller-coaster. But that's The Rapture for you. That's Siouxsie and the Banshees.
