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Siouxsie & The Banshees Live London, Shepherds Bush Empire 10th July 2002 |
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The Guardian UK Newspaper (no pic) Shepherds Bush Empire, London John Aizlewood Friday July 12, 2002 The inevitably imminent best of album
notwithstanding, the reasons for Siouxsie and the Banshees' re-formation
are the same as Dollar's or The Belle Stars'. In the seven years since the
Banshees shuffled to a halt, Siouxsie and Budgie's Creatures barely raised
a ripple, and Steven Severin was reduced to releasing internet solo
albums. No matter - the parent group still retains a fanatical following
of elderly goths. In his leather overcoat and leather trousers, spiky-haired
new guitarist Knox Chandler is such a goth parody he gives every
impression of playing in a Banshees tribute band, which, with bitter
irony, is the perennial fate of the re-formed. Despite spitefully omitting
their only top 10 hits, Dear Prudence and Hong Kong Garden, Siouxsie and
her Banshees work hard. Siouxsie begins the evening dressed as a regional
newsreader, all shiny suit and David Steele-esque shirt and tie. By Icon,
she has begun to disrobe; by the end, she's down to a glittery bra.
Their strengths and weaknesses remain. They were always very
good at being very good, but conspicuously lacked the fairy dust of
genius. That cannot change now. Nor will the limitations of Siouxsie's
harsh, inflexible voice be overcome: as the evening progresses, it becomes
tinier and tinnier. Yet there is dignity here. Siouxsie has a different dance for each song and exudes charisma, and Severin is still a supremely inventive bassist. Oddly, though, the drummer is the star. Budgie not only anchors the band and hits so hard he needs to wear gloves, he actually leads the sound. The crowd naturally want hits and they get some, delivered with the same grace with which Siouxsie accepts a bunch of flowers. With its "Whoh, oh" chorus, their best song, Cities in Dust is a heady percussive flurry of delight, Israel retains its enigmatic status and Spellbound is an air-punching romp
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The Times UK Newspaper (review features on their website but not in paper?!)
IF THE Sex Pistols can do it, so can the Banshees. Seven
years after they split, Siouxsie Sioux’s punk pioneers were back this week
for four British gigs. Naturally, it wasn’t nostalgia that had brought
them together, but a Greatest Hits album. Still, punk was never averse to
a bit of fast cash, and compared to the Pistols Siouxsie’s crew looked
youthful. If the fans who sold out two shows at Shepherds Bush Empire
were worried that the Banshees might embarrass themselves, they were soon
put right. This was no tacky reunion but a serious stab at proving their
songs had stood the test of time. The show opened to Budgie’s thumping
drums and a trademark wail from Siouxsie, although in a pitch black venue
it was hard to make out either. Five minutes later the lights came on to reveal a slimline
Siouxsie between guitarists Steve Severin and Knox Chandler (the last to
play live with the band). She looked amazing. She was dressed in a tight
grey silky suit, white pinstriped shirt and skinny black tie, her face
made up with glittery eyeshadow and bright red lipstick and her cheekbones
as sharp as they were in the 1970s. When she indulged in Spanish-style
dancing or froze in an arty pose, she could have been twentysomething
again. Only later, when she knelt at the front, did she look a little like
a mad auntie let out for the first time in years.
In fact, all of the Banshees had aged well — more than can
be said for some of their fans. There was so much spare belly bouncing
around it was a wonder someone wasn’t hurt. Elsewhere in the audience, there were plumages of brightly
coloured hair, men in kilts and too much make-up, some frighteningly high
shoes, bosoms bursting out of corsets and, of course, lots of black.
As for the music, it sounded as good as Siouxsie looked. The
band worked their way through one classic after another, each sounding
better than the last. Metal Postcard was raw and edgy, Happy
House got everyone jumping up and down and Cities in Dust
became a mass singalong. The gig ended with the strange sight of thousands of aging punks spilling out on to Shepherds Bush Green.
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