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The GREAT
live albums, James Brown at the Apollo, the MC5's "Kick Out The
Jams", the Velvets "1969" to name but three, are
assertive, definitive statements, which speak volumes more than could an
infinite series of studio albums. The rest, the majority, of which
this is one, are transparently unnecessary. Their sole purpose
seemingly, is the self gratification of the artist concerned, along with
the shifting of units which are usually peculiarly weightless.
Perhaps way back when we were confronted with the loveless grandeur of
"The Scream" instead of the sensual, shuddering,
shambling paradise we'd been promised, a live Banshees album would have
effortlessly glided into the first category. Now pre Xmas 1983, it
settles proficiently and equally effortlessly into the second. And
so proficiently! For what it's worth (i.e. little or
nothing), the music here is faultless, although it falls noticeably
short of the immaculate studio recordings. It's a tasteful
collection, a selection of chunky bits from the last few albums and
singles. So What? Unless these happen to be your sixteen
favourite Banshee, the artifact is completely worthless from it's
orchestral splat of an introduction, courtesy of Stravinsky, to it's far
from climatic "Voodoo Dolly" close. The Banshees have a
new studio album nearing completion, which fact is immeasurably
valuable, as otherwise this affair would suggest a frightening dearth of
imagination. It does serve, however to clear up two useful points
of interest: the stunning inflexibility of Siouxsie's voice when spread
over a range of material so superficially diverse as this one; and the
utter anonymity of Robert Smith as Banshee, slavishly imitating McGeoch
and failing miserably, adding nothing of his own dubious individuality
to the proceedings. In all, from it's messy, garish packaging to
it's accompanying video, this is one of the most pointless exercises
imaginable. And it's a double! That strangely familiar
sleeve lettering; that perfunctory run through of those we might have
loved; that implicit Yuletide, hard sell message! This might well
be "The Song Remains The Same" A proud boast that claims
"No overdubs" says it all. That a band so originally
feared, so latterly revered as this should resort to such a weak snatch
at credibility is proof enough that things are far from what they ought
to have been.
Robin Gibson
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