I have a tremendous respect and admiration for Siouxsie and the Banshees, not only for their music but also for their bravery. Listening through their career there's a consistent fearlessness that allowed them to define their work on their own terms and avoid being categorized. As a fan that bravery and fearlessness have always been coupled in my mind with the ideas of potential and possibility and living life on one's own terms, which are a pretty liberating set of ideas if you ask me.
As members of the mid 70s UK Punk scene, Siouxsie Sioux
and Steven Severin played a significant role in developing the fashion and style of the era before becoming musicians, helping to establish a vital and important sub-culture that continues to influence music, art, fashion, and attitudes even today. Simultaneously, they were also contributing to a redefinition of artist and audience roles, creating an environment where the audience became just as much a part of the performance as the artists were, adding to the spectacle and contributing to an aesthetic. Through their embodiment of Punk's Do It Yourself ethic, Siouxsie and Severin led a shift that would give rise to a new musical paradigm where roles and influence were fluid and interchangeable, a paradigm which was fully realized when Sioux and Severin
formed the Banshees to fill an empty spot opening for The Clash and the Sex Pistols at a show at the 100 Club in London. Despite never having played live before, despite not
even having any songs to perform, that evening the newly born Banshees displayed a bravery and confidence in themselves born from this new ideal, and that bravery and confidence would carry through the rest of their career as their work shifted and evolved, helping to define them as innovative performers who pushed the boundaries of what they were doing, all the while inspiring generations after them to do the same.
I'll admit, I got to the Banshees' party pretty late. The suburbs of Toronto were about five billion light years away from the streets of London during the height of the UK Punk scene, and y'know, I had just started grade school at the time, so I missed out on that debut show at the 100 Club. In fact, I missed pretty much all of the Banshees career up until one night in 1983 when I was sitting up late watching City Limits and out of the blue the video for Dear Prudence began to play. I already knew the song from The Beatles, but there was
something so beautiful and mysterious about the Banshees' version, something that made it just *that* much better. Siouxsie Sioux's vocals had an emotional quality that added to the lyrics, making the song all the more appealing. The instrumentation had a more psychedelic quality to it, something alien and mystical, much darker and lush than The Beatles. Dare I say it? I think, and I still do think, that the Banshees' version of Dear Prudence is better that the original. The video was pretty cool too, with Sioux and Severin and Budgie and Robert Smith all slinking around the back alleys of Venice. There was a sparkle to the video, a particular playfulness that I really liked, and it also called back to David Bowie's video for Ashes to Ashes, with negative images and blobs of flowing colour popping up every so often while the band crept around. I was pretty impressed, and I immediately started trying to find out more about the Banshees. A cassette copy of Once Upon a Time quickly brought me up to speed on the broad strokes of the band's career, an introduction to the glory of Christine and Spellbound, the majesty of Israel, the deceptive playfulness of Happy House, and everything else on that tape.
It would take me a while to find more of their work as much of their catalog wasn't available domestically in Canada at the time, but I stuck to it and was able to track down the rest of the Banshees' catalog after considerable effort. And every one of those albums was a wonder, a marvel, something to be cherished. Admittedly, Kaleidoscope and Juju were my favorites, followed closely by The Scream and Kiss in the Dreamhouse, and then Nocturne and Hyaena (though I continue to have a soft spot for Dear Prudence), and then finally Join Hands. Alright, I'll admit, I'm not too big on Join Hands even now, but y'know, it's an okay album, I just don't enjoy it as much as the rest of their catalog.
Anyway, parallel to my efforts to collect the band's albums, I also found out a little bit more about the Banshees history and where they came from. I heard about their days as music fans and how that led to their first gig, and how they eventually became the band that I would become so enamored with. And that history was soooooooo exciting to me! The idea that a music fan could make the switch from audience member to performer was completely inspiring, opening a world of possibilities and wonder with huge possibilities for the future. Long time readers of this blog will know that I've written extensively about how David Bowie helped me come to terms with myself as a person, how he helped me find an identity and accept myself for who I am. And running alongside that the Banshees helped me realize that I didn't have to accept who I was at face value. The Banshees taught me that I could do anything if I was brave enough to try. And the freedom and liberation that came from that realization was staggering, an incredibly exhilarating realization that made me dizzy with possibilities.
But you know, despite everything that the Banshees meant to me, and despite the dizzying possibilities they inspired, I didn't get around to seeing them until 1988. I know that they came to Toronto at least twice between my discovering them and then, but for whatever reason I didn't go to those shows and I really can't say why. In retrospect it seems like a really significant oversight in my concert going history, and I'm kind of kicking myself for it.
I finally got around to seeing Siouxsie and the Banshees live in 1988, and they were amazing. Like, totally awesomely fucking amazing. They had just released the Peepshow album in September of that year, and it was a radiant and beautiful album that equaled Kaleidoscope and Juju in my mind, a collection of brilliant songs that all resonated with me on a variety of different frequencies. I was fascinated by Peek-A-Boo and all of it's backwards and forwards distorted accordion looping genius. I loved the string-y elegance of The Killing Jar, and the harmonica driven country twang of Burn-Up. The stately beauty of The Last Beat of My Heart brought me to tears on more than one occasion, and then there was Rhapsody, which stands as my very favorite Banshees song of all time, six and a half minutes of Siouxsie singing Severin's poignant lyrics with near-operatic perfection. I mean, really, the album is a fucking masterpiece, truly a highlight in their impressive career. So thinking about it now in retrospect, maybe it was a good thing that I waited until 1988 to see them live, because it may well have been my best opportunity to do so. Extensive concert-going experience would suggest that a band with a strong album will usually do a strong show, and there's no question that Peepshow is one of the strongest albums in The Banshees' career.
The show was scheduled for late October at Massey Hall, which is one of my favorite places to see a show in Toronto. It's a small-ish theatre that holds about 2500 people, much more intimate and better acoustics than the majority of Toronto venues. I had a ticket in the fifth row on the right side of the orchestra, and that was pretty much the perfect place to be sitting, as it was close enough to see the band in detail but also far enough away to appreciate the spectacle and theatricality of the performance.
When I got there, a large curtain covered the entire stage, and as the lights went down the band marched out from behind it to the front of the stage and began a stripped down version of The Last Beat of My Heart. It was such a simple way to start the show, so elegant and understated, and I think that it worked far more effectively than something more flashy and show-y would have. From the start there was a sense of intimacy created, a sense of the band playing "with" you rather than "to" you. I suppose I'm probably projecting my own thoughts about the band on top of everything else here, but it was an opening that really made a connection with the audience, and I really liked that.
The Banshees all looked particularly stylish that evening, with flashy clothes, long tailored jackets, hats, kind of a vaguely surreal Victorian look. Siouxsie wore a top hat, her hair was cut in a bob at the time, and the resulting effect was quite sophisticated. Martin McCarrick wore a vest, and he might have had a top hat as well. I'm pretty sure that Jon Klein wore a leather cap, and he looked very long and insectile, almost spider-like. Budgie wore a top-knot on his head and that was about all I could see of him when he was behind his drum kit, bobbing along in time with the music. I'm afraid I can't remember exactly what Steven Severin wore, I'm pretty sure he had a waist coat, but I worry that I might be confusing that evening with one of the other Banshee shows I'd see in later years. For the purposes of setting the scene let's assume that he wore a blue waist coat and go with that. Whatever he wore, I remember that he looked very dashing that evening.
After opening the set, The Banshees returned behind the curtain while Siouxsie stayed out front to sing Turn to Stone. She commanded the stage, moving from side to side, her voice rising and falling with the lyrics. She did this arm swaying thing that looked like she was summoning spirits, and it really added to the effect of her presence. Siouxsie has always had an incredible stage presence.
Following that, the curtain swept away to reveal a white scrim that The Banshees played behind for The Killing Jar. Bright lights shone from the back of the stage so elongated shadows of the band were projected during the song. Martin McCarrick sat on the side of the stage playing cello-y goodness throughout, and his shadow was particularly prominent. Such a simple but brilliant effect.
At the end of the song the stage was revealed, filled with ramps and bridges and catwalks and multi-leveled places to slink and strut and do all that wonderful stuff. As I write this I'm actually wondering how complex it was, because the practical side of my brain is wondering how much you could really fit on the stage at Massey Hall, but the emotional nostalgic side of my brain is yelling at the top of it's brain-y lungs "IT WAS HUUUUUGE!!!! GINORMOUS!!!!! ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY GIANT!!!!!!!" It's hard to argue with that kind of surety. Anyways, it was a very cool set, and the band used it to slink and strut and do all that wonderful stuff as they ran through Christine, Wheels on Fire and a bunch of other great songs. During Rawhead and Bloodybones Siouxsie sang from under a bridge, adding to the claustrophobic quality of the song. They played an amazing version of Red Light with blinding red spotlights that flashed in time with the shutter click of the song, and during Peek-A-Boo, Siouxsie led Martin McCarrick and his accordion on a merry chase around the whole stage. It was all very cool.
They closed the set with a stunning run through Rhapsody that delivered on all of the strength and beauty of the album version while blue skies and clouds were projected in the background. I remember the power that I felt when Siouxsie sang the line "We can dream all we want to...", giving voice to everything I had felt about the Banshees and the inspiration they had given me. It was kind of a moment, y'know? Thinking about that performance I still get chills...
There were two encores that night, the first featuring a manic run through El Dia De Los Muertos from the Killing Jar single, and then an extended and epic version of Spellbound that lasted for almost ten minutes, with the band all stretching out their parts to breathe new life into one of their best songs. They closed the night with Israel and it was everything I could hope for, Siouxsie's voice still in perfect form even after having played for a couple of hours beforehand. A lovely way to end the evening.
The Peepshow tour stands as a personal favorite show for a variety of reasons, and I'm really glad I got to see Siouxsie and The Banshees on that tour. There was a tremendous energy and a sense of wonder in their performance that night in 1988, and I think I got a little taste of what The Banshees may have been like at the 100 Club when they played their very first show back in the mid 70s. Cool, confident, passionate, like they could do anything if they were brave enough to try...
