When perfect soul couple Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston sang It Takes Two back in 1966, they could have had little idea of the bizarre musical pairings that were to follow. Released this week, the latest in a long line of unlikely duets features Morrissey and Siouxsie (she of the Banshees), who have joined fleetingly for Interlude, a single which the record company insists unites "two of pop's major ironists".

"Ironists" perhaps, misanthropes certainly. Combine the passionate pessimism of the songwriter who penned Girlfriend in a Coma with the dour diva who sang Love in a Void, and the result is a double dose of misery that will be hard to equal. Interlude is a lugubrious, haunting and occasionally off key ballad, which should do neither party's enviable reputation for wretchedness any harm. But it seems peculiar that they should have teamed up at all.

Morrissey is the quintessential loner who spent his teenage years holed up in his bedroom, Siouxsie the fiercely independent first-lady of punk with a one time penchant for dominatrix outfits. You'd have thought Morrissey was too shy to show his tonsils and Siouxsie to haughty to hand over the mike.

But perhaps they're just kowtowing to fashion. 

There's always a subtext to these odd couplings, sometimes no more than a smart move by a record company to the mutual benefit of two of its signings. "Putting people together can be an attempt to broaden an artist's or music's appeal", explains Steve Redmond, editor of trade bible Music Week.

It's easy to see why Elton's at it. He was dogged for many years by the fact that despite being one of the country's best-selling artists, his only number one was Don't Go Breaking My Heart, a duet with Kiki Dee released in 1976. It took him another 14 years to do it on his own with Sacrifice. In the meantime, he'd partnered Millie Jackson, John Lennon and the Muscle Shoals Horns, Cliff Richard, Dionne Warwick, Jennifer Rush and Aretha Franklin. He'll try anything that Elton.

It can also be an image thing. Better than pulling on a new jacket, pull in a new partner, and you'll suddenly be seen in a different light. Even the hopelessly naff English footie squad recognised the tactic and looked to New Order for some indie chic before setting off for Italia 90. 

But the ultimate mismatch has to be Bing Crosby and David Bowie, who came together for Peace on Earth / Little Drummer Boy, which reached number three in 1983. It was difficult enough to listen to the song, but quite impossible to watch the frosty-edged footage of the spaced-out androgyne and the be-cardiganed granddaddy belting it out from under a Christmas tree.

So perhaps Morrissey and Siouxsie aren't such an unlikely double act after all. Perhaps they're working on the premise that two people can generate twice as many sales. More charitably, they could be playing a knowing post-modern joke on the record buying public. Let's face it, we're dealing with a pair of pop's major ironists here.  Jim Davies

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This song not included elsewhere

Time is like a dream
And now for a time you are mine
Let's hold fast to the dream
That tastes and sparkles like wine

Who knows if it's real
Or just something we're both dreaming of
What seems like an interlude now
Could be the beginning of love

Loving you is a world that's strange
So much more than my heart can hold
Loving you makes the whole world change
Loving you I could not grow old

No, nobody knows when love will end
So 'till then sweet friend

Lyrics: George De La Rue/Hal Shaper

A winter's day broke blue and bright
With glancing sun and glancing spray
As o'er the swell our boat made way
As gallant as a gull in flight

But as we neared the lonely isle
And looked up at the naked height
And saw the lighthouse towering white
With blinding lantern that all night

Had never shot a spark
Of comfort in the dark

So ghostly in the cold sunlight
Seemed that we were struck awhile
With wonder what a dread for words
So ghostly in the cold sunlight