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see all the photos from this concert here
Tonight, I’m not in my usual haunts. For once, I’m not propping up the bar in one of London’s grubby rock ‘n’ roll holes. I’m in the altogether more upmarket surroundings of the Royal Festival Hall, all fifties-modern wood veneer, besuited stewards on every door. There’s a hubbub of conversation in the crowded foyer as the audience - everyone from fiftysomething avant-rock aficionados to young, wide-eyed nu-metal kidz - gathers for the performance. Tonight, we will experience Siouxsie’s Dream Show - a bona-fide concert, rather than a plain old gig, in which Siouxsie will deliver selected highlights from her repertoire, arranged for orchestra and rock band, and presented in the formal surroundings of one of London’s foremost concert halls. I must admit I had my misgivings about
this idea. After all, it’s hardly what you’d call punk rock. Wasn’t The audience is gonged into the auditorium. The lights go down, the traditional expectant hush falls. And here comes the orchestra: a string section, a distinctly jazz-oriented horn section, percussionists and a harpist. Along with them, the current Siouxsie-band, including Leonard Eto with his battery of fearsome percussion. We begin with a Budgie/Eto drum duel, the sound unfurling itself huge and high into the acoustic funnel of the auditorium. And then Siouxsie herself is on stage, whirling in the spotlight as the band fires Creatures numbers into the audience like shells from a Howitzer. ‘Say Yes’ is a powerhouse of precision percussion; ‘Godzilla’ - complete with projected cityscape backdrops - a glorious romp. ‘Miss The Girl’ makes an appearance, a groovy tumble of marimba and drums, light on its feet and sounding delightfully fresh. But it’s on the older Banshees numbers that the orchestra really comes into its own. ‘Dear Prudence’ is a great sweep of drama, the string section swooning away like nobody’s business, while ‘Obsession’ manages to sound close and claustrophobic even in the wide open spaces of the Royal Festival Hall. ‘Second Floor’, as ever a mad rampage of an anthem, slams in; the new arrangement of the song with its long drawn out, so-mo coda giving Siouxsie a chance to do her dying swan number on the stage. And then ‘Happy House’, with much of John McGeoch’s distinctive guitar figure given to the harpist - ah, now, that really does work. I can almost see old McGeoch grinning with delight at the cheek of it. There’s an interval, during which we may
adjourn to the foyer bar for drinks, or stay in our seats and chuckle at
the projected message on the backdrop - ‘I wanna Ice Queen!’ - an amusing
pun for those whose Banshees-knowledge is arcane enough to get the joke,
and proof that Siouxsie never forgets Encores follow, including ‘Face To Face’,
the Banshees’ Batman tune, and another song which benefits And yet, and yet. Outside, on the walkway overlooking the Thames, the usual ‘unofficial’ T-shirt vendors have spread their wares. The latest Siouxsie image is displayed on blue and green and white shirts; a multicoloured display of Siouxsies staring up at us under the glow of the Royal Festival Hall’s lights. A girl just ahead of me surveys the display with disdain. I overhear her unimpressed comment: ‘Why haven’t they got anything in *black*?’ she complains. Ah, many things may well be different now - but some things never change!
The Creatures' website - official source of all current Siouxsie info: http://www.thecreatures.com Unofficial Siouxsie site - best for comprehensive
tour info, setlists, photos, reviews, etc: http://www.untiedundone.com
The Royal Festival Hall: http://www.rfh.org.uk Reviewed by Uncle Nemesis: http://www.nemesis.to
12/04/04 |
this
sort of thing exactly what punk was supposed to kick into touch, or at
the very least kick up the arse? I can imagine, say, Yes, or Pink Floyd
putting together an orchestral concert, but surely Siouxsie was always
on the side of visceral thrills rather than meticulously-planned formality?
But then again, it’s not like Siouxsie ever troubled to follow anybody’s
rule book. If orchestras, concert halls and formality are against the rules
of punk, well, dammit, that’s a good enough reason to do it right there.
What makes this idea even more interesting is that this concert comes only
a week or so after Siouxsie and her current part-Creatures, part-Banshees
band played three nights at the 100 Club, the very same venue where a hastily-formed
group of Sex Pistols followers called Suzi And The Banshees appeared at
Malcolm McLaren’s punk festival in 1976. At a time when so many old-skool
bands are reforming in an effort to capture former glories, the juxtaposition
of Siouxsie’s London gigs sends a typically snook-cocking message. Siouxsie
can dip into her past any time she likes - but, alone of all her erstwhile
contemporaries on the punk-and-after scene, she’s also moving onwards and
upwards.
what
the press say about her. The gong goes for part two, and the orchestra
takes the stage once again. They’re joined by Martin McCarrick, former
Banshees cellist, who sets himself down by guitarist Knox Chandler, the
two of them stationed on a podium as if they’re on display - ‘Exhibits
A and B - two Banshees, high mileage but full working order’. The orchestra
slips neatly into a naggingly familiar string figure. It’s ‘The Rapture’,
the grandiose orchestral number on the Banshees’ last album. It’s a track
which I always felt fell rather flat on record, but this version - unleashed
into its natural habitat, a concert hall - sounds full of life. ‘Cities
In Dust’ provokes the audience into the kind of frenzy seldom seen, I’ll
warrant, in these staid surroundings, the entire downstairs contingent
leaping out of their seats and turning the Royal Festival Hall’s stalls
into a good old moshpit. Siouxsie herself is on a roll, revelling in every
minute. When someone shouts out ‘We love you!’ she turns to the audience,
arms outstretched, and for one minute I think she’s going to give in and
simply bask in the adulation. Ha, I think, she’s having such a good time
she’s forgotten to be cynical old Siouxsie! But she recovers herself, and
turns the compliment towards the band: ‘We love....all *this*!’ she says,
and nobody’s going to disagree tonight.
hugely
from the full-scale orchestral arrangement. And to finish, a pedal-to-the-metal
romp through ‘Spellbound’, everything piled in to the arrangement, that
big, slamming drum tattoo - ‘Dance! Dance! Dance!’ - hammering out like
the 1812 Overture. And that’s yer lot; there is no more. The audience files
out, dazed and grinning, all of us aware that tonight we’ve seen Siouxsie
break the rules and push the boundaries and come up, yet again, with another
success. Sure, that wasn’t punk rock. Nowhere near. But so what? We’re
a long, long way from all that now. Times have changed, things are different.
And Siouxsie’s still out in front.