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In what has all the makings of
comeback of the year, Siouxsie Sioux has come out of self-imposed exile
and emerged as an artist reborn on her first solo disc, “Mantaray.”
Born Susan Janet Ballion 50 years ago, Siouxsie (who has dropped the
“Sioux” and is now a member of the elitist one-name celebrity club)
was the enigmatic singer of Siouxsie & the Banshees and its
offshoot, the Creatures.
Siouxsie burst on the music scene in unorthodox fashion in 1976 at the
100 Club in London. Performing with future Sex Pistols’ Sid Vicious on
drums, Siouxsie’s first gig boasted a scandalous and lengthy
performance of “The Lord’s Prayer.” Who would have ever imagined
that this leading force in the Goth movement and champion Bohemian pinup
girl would sound like a godsend more than 30 years later?
Siouxsie is no longer fronting the
Banshees (whose last studio disc was 1995’s ill-received “The
Rapture”) nor is she likely to commit to a Creatures collaboration
anytime soon. Not only are those two projects history, so is her
creative partnership and marriage with Budgie, the drummer,
percussionist and keyboardist of both outfits. This breakup (apparently
bitter and unexpected, according to her latest batch of lyrics) fuels
the fire on “Mantaray,” a stellar album focusing on abrupt endings,
romantic betrayals, new beginnings and endless possibilities in the
future.
The murky, nightmarish, magnificent “Into a Swan” is an emotional
grabber and spine-tingler in which Siouxsie experiences a cathartic
soul-cleansing and creative rebirth. A shrieking moan segues into
Siouxsie’s beautiful, beguiling voice as she wrestles and eventually
gives in to a dramatic transformation. Initially spooked but somewhat
delighted by her inner strength, Siouxsie cries out, “What in the
world’s happening?/What in the world could this be?/I’m on the verge
of an awakening/A new kind of strength for me.” Dissonant guitar
riffs, industrial-strength synths and booming, bone-crushing percussion
give a sense that Siouxsie’s body is being reshaped into some new
being. When the metamorphosis is complete, listeners can’t wait for
the sonic adventures that lie ahead. They won’t be disappointed.
Siouxsie braces herself for “the calm before the hunter kill” on the
deliciously depraved “About to Happen.” But instead of a fire and
brimstone assault on the senses of “City of Dust,” it’s all shake
and shimmy with Siouxsie strutting her stuff. On this souped-up, glam
rock opus, Siouxsie delivers her doomsayer predictions alongside a
stomping mix of jangly guitars riffs, springy synth chords and snappy
percussion. Siouxsie tantalizingly advises, “Get up. Get out/Don’t
hang about/Get up. Get out.” With Armageddon just around the corner,
what better way to celebrate than on the dance floor?
On “Here Comes That Day,” Siouxsie hits pay dirt. Accompanied by a
bombastic mix of booming brass and percussion, Siouxsie warns,
“There’s a price to pay/For a life of insincerity” and makes good
on her promise. With a cool, confident strength and swagger, Siouxsie
seduces us and threatens us; we are, whether innocent or guilty, utterly
helpless.
“Loveless” opens with the enticing image of Siouxsie as a panther on
the prowl (“Hear me purr. Hear me growl”). But this daring sex
kitten soon confesses that despite wearing her “slinky boots” and
“kooky mood,” she has been declawed by her lover’s deceit.
Sweeping, dreamy orchestration is obliterated by a moody, murky mix of
jarring guitar licks, rumbling percussion and snarly upright bass. While
this is a voice of a woman devastated by “all that sweetness covered
falseness,” Siouxsie sounds as if she is about to strike at any
second.
Siouxsie is at her tantalizing best on sweeping torch song and
showstopper “If It Doesn’t Kill You.” With the forbidden mystery
and allure of a Brechtian heroine, Siouxsie gushes, “If it doesn’t
kill you/It will shape you/If it doesn’t break you/It will make
you.” With a dark undercurrent, the charismatic singer gives the
impression that she knows the truth of her words all too well.
On the ethereal mood piece “Sea of Tranquility,” Siouxsie is under
the spell of cool water cleansing her soul. A fluid arrangement of
beautiful strings and sparkling piano accents the singer’s sensual,
seductive voice. As she ventures forth onto Bjork territory, Siouxsie
tempestuously belts out, “There are more stars in the sky than grains
of sand,” as if the words contain some deep dark secret.
While she’s in love with the idea of falling in love, Siouxsie
doesn’t know if she’s strong enough to face the deception that comes
with it on the sparse piano confessional “Heaven and Alchemy.”
Momentarily dropping her defenses, Siouxsie declares, “I would catch a
falling star/If you asked me to/But I can’t seem to find one/To hold
on to.” With romantic longing and deep resentment in her voice,
Siouxsie’s cries are both passionate and powerless while
“Mantaray” proves the singer is still a provocative powerhouse.
Craig Semon
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Banshees-free and Creatures-free, but
still the outsider...