THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS - MAGAZINE COVERS | ||
|
||
|
||
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS - INTERVIEWS/ARTICLES | ||
|
||
MELODY MAKER 10/01/87 | ||
SMASH HITS 10/02/87 | ||
SOUNDS 28/02/87 | ||
NME 21/03/87 | ||
RECORD MIRROR 04/04/87 | ||
RECORD MIRROR 1987 | ||
AHH PUSSY! (SOURCE UNKNOWN) 1987 | ||
|
||
NME | ||
|
||
|
||
DONALD McRAE takes us through the
Banshees' latest pop
exercise and questions STEVE SEVERIN on the use of cover versions.
Soft option? Money for old rope?
Ten years ago, Siouxsie & The Banshees' first performance consisted of one song; a funeral version of 'The Lord's Prayer' was shredded alive by the Banshees' disembowelment of religion and rock. 'The Lord's Prayer' allowed Siouxsie to spew scorn over something traditionally sacred while enticing her to parody equally worn rock clichés. The mangling of 'Twist And Shout' and 'Knocking On Heaven's Door', in the middle of regurgitated religious dirge, still smacks of the hopelessly romantic nihilism which was used to turn punk into a myth. A decade later, the Banshees' fascination with 'the cover' finally comes full circle with the release of their tenth LP, 'Through The Looking Glass'. The mythical glamour of that edgy opening cover now recedes into bleakly double-edged irony. That badly-executed, jarring 'Lord's Prayer' purgation has been replaced forever by a competent Banshees concept album of cover versions - released in the week that 25% of TOTP is given over to old songs and reinterpretations of classic ditties, with the top four slots being held down by covers and re-releases. Siouxsie & The Banshees - for so long at spikey odds with contemporary revivalism - are at last reduced to the stasis of being firmly in step with conventional pop scheming. In a pop time so desperately bereft of inspiration, so infected with plagiarism and nostalgia, 'Through The Looking Glass' is merely adequate and mildly interesting when the Banshees really needed to release a record with the impact - if not the sound - of 'The Scream'. And that this LP of covers is actually an improvement on their more recent "original" offerings is an even more cutting indictment of the Banshees' inability to restore the faded pertinence of their pop subversion. Tired of such carping and doubting, Siouxsie chooses to avoid our mild-mannered encounter and it's Steve Severin alone who's confronted with the tedious task of trying to justify the release of a covers LP in a copyist-infested pop climate. With seemingly unconscious irony, Steve sports a blonde crop which is not dissimilar to that favoured by the current top-selling cover artist, Boy George. However, we decide to ignore this irony and Steve begins the defence. "I know that people have been saying that we lost our spark of inspiration during the last few albums, but it's almost inevitable that things change over the years. The most important thing about our decision to do this record of covers was that it allowed us to work at a very fast pace again - that really was therapeutic. "The last couple of albums have been a case of us going into the studio without enough material to record or else that we've gone into the studio too soon after writing so that we haven't been able to look at the songs with any real detachment. Obviously with this record all the material was already written and we just had to rethink and rearrange the songs. We became especially interested in the exercise of delving into other people's songs and seeing how simple a song can be again. Maybe we also realised that we were putting too many elements in our songs and making them over-complex." Contrary to cliché, Steve Severin is not the "arrogant and difficult bastard" he's made out to be by pop writers who mistake an initial reticence for surly conceit. Severin does open himself up tentatively to criticism and, in a similar way, the Banshees almost willingly set themselves up for their critics by accepting the easy option in 'Through The Looking Glass'. "Yeah, of course we knew that people would criticise us. But we've been thinking about this project for a long time... ever since we did 'Dear Prudence'. What a lot of people seem to have missed is the point that most of the cover exercises before have been done by solo artists. It's unusual for a band who've got a very distinctive sound to attempt an album of covers. We aren't compared to many people. It's usually the other way round, the people are compared to us." The most immediate comparison that has to be made now is between 'Through The Looking Glass' and Nick Cave's 'Kicking Against The Pricks', a far superior record of covers. Whereas the Banshees rework other singers' songs with polite restraint, Cave strips his covers of their original identity so that they become easily controlled vehicles for his own obsessions. Cave can make songs as diverse as 'By The Time I Get To Phoenix' and 'The Carnival Is Over' sound like they were written especially to exorcise his own personal trauma. In contrast, The Banshees treat the cover version as a pop 'exercise' and, consequently, their record lacks the wit and substance of 'Pricks'. Steve, is naturally, more reticent about Nick Cave. "Well, quite a few others have mentioned the Nick Cave record to us in passing. I haven't heard it but, just by looking at the choice of songs, it seems to be merely an exercise in ego. And I don't think Nick Cave will ever turn into Johnny Cash... he does seem to be trying hard though." 'Through The Looking Glass' is less a warped glance into the prism of past pop than a strangely unsatisfactory mix of the soothingly familiar and the unexpectedly bizarre. Iggy Pop's 'Passenger', an obvious Banshees choice, mingles awkwardly with something like their 'Strange Fruit' which is a weak and absurd interpretation of Billie Holiday's version. The Banshees scheme is clear enough - inclusion of songs by Iggy Pop, Roxy Music, Television, The Doors and John Cale allows the group to remember their own favourite influences while the insertion of 'Strange Fruit' and The Jungle Book's 'Trust In Me' possesses a twist of surprise. As Steve stresses: "Something like 'The Passenger' is an obvious favourite and we really wanted to do a Roxy song; we've been playing 'Little Johnny Jewel' at soundchecks for years - basically because we've always liked it. But we also wanted an element of surprise on the record, we wanted to do songs which people wouldn't expect us to cover." This willingness to stretch Banshee pop apart to accommodate a song as different as 'Strange Fruit' is admirable; the execution, however, is infinitely less desirable with Siouxsie getting nowhere near the stark sorrow that swelled Billie Holiday's singing. Steve attempts a struggling explanation of the 'Strange Fruit' choice: When we decided to formulate a list of possible songs we could cover, a big stumbling block was the lyrics. You just couldn't imagine Sioux singing any Tamla song because they all seem to be about rejection and pitiful lovers. The reality of Siouxsie singing 'Strange Fruit' - in a way which suggests that the song might actually be about eating unusually large apples in a Holland Park back garden - is admittedly less absurd then the idea of her tripping through 'Baby Love'. But did Siouxsie experience any qualms about singing such a harrowing Billie Holiday song about the Deep South? "Not at all. I don't think Siouxsie had heard Billie Holiday before we listened to 'Strange Fruit'. And I think that anyone can sing a protest song. But what interested us most about 'Strange Fruit' was the fact that originally there was no set music, what with it being based on an old poem." It still doesn't work and the Banshees are much more at ease working with familiar loves like 'The Passenger' and 'Little Johnny Jewel'. But even here they encountered difficulties: We tried a few early Stooges songs but it just sounded wrong... we felt just stupid trying to play 'Gimmie Danger'... and then we thought for about a week that we couldn't possibly get away with covering 'Passenger'. Eventually we said, 'let's just do it and see what it sounds like'..." "And the Roxy Music choice was really hard. We tried 'Pyjamarama' and 'Street Life' but we just decided that there wasn't much point. It was difficult to find a Roxy song which we could change for the better. So we eventually choice 'Sea Breezes' which is not a particular favourite of anyone... but at least we could add something to the original." 'The Passenger', 'Little Johnny Jewel' and a slinky reworking of 'Trust In Me' are the exceptions on an otherwise bland workout of old songs. With such a low return of inspiration it makes one wonder what still motivates the Banshees. Inevitably the answers creep around slowly. Money and travel - from Hungary to Argentina - would appear to be the most tangible reasons but Steve chooses instead to emphasise a more abstract argument for the Banshees' continued existence. "Like most people we probably don't live up to our ideals... like everybody else we have to adapt and to compromise. But we do have a very firm base which means that the compromises that we do concede are insignificant. My own idea of what a Banshee is will probably go to my grave. Even if the group ended today my whole 'Banshee' vision would remain. And we will continue for some time because that vision motivates us to do things with a certain amount of dignity... it makes us spiritually motivated to do things properly, to be moral..." There is still an undeniable "dignity" and "morality" about Siouxsie & The Banshees - even when they're reduced to covering an album of old songs in a pop world bent on destroying anything deeper than shallow conceit and slavering money-lust. For that alone, they "matter" - but after ten years of post-punk Banshees pop it's clear that creativity and inspiration have been devoured by competence and efficiency.. As for radical reworkings of old songs and standards, who really needs the Banshees when we've already heard the same idea opened up more scathingly, more searchingly, by John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins, Youssou N Dour and hip-hop? Donald McRae 21/03/87 |
||
|
||
SOURCE UNKNOWN | ||
|
||
|
||
AH!
PUSSY! Cats, masks, huskies, and Joan Collins haven’t got that mush in common - except that Siouxsie loves them all. She told David Martin exactly why. On Food: I love food! At the moment my favourite is Thai food. I also really like Japanese. The only food I don’t like is Arabic sheep's’ eyes and all that. I think my favourite dish is pasta with seafood. I’m a real pig. But I’m not as bad as I used to be. At one time, I was living on McDonalds until I got sick of them. On St Paul's Cathedral: We wanted to do a show in there complete with an orchestra and choir but they wouldn’t let us. On Joan Collins: When I get a bit of time, I always love to zombie out in front of the telly and watch films and documentaries. I used to watch EastEnders, but I lost touch because we are away so much. But I always try and see Dynasty just to see Joan Collins’ latest outfit. On Record companies: We still fight them, even after 11 years. They didn’t want to let us put out the current single, Song At The Edge Of The World. On Cats: I’ve wanted one for ages. I just love them because everything about them is so good, the way they look, their manners, the way they walk, their purring. I definitely prefer moggies though; pedigrees are a bit too inbred - like Hooray Henries. On Make-Up: Actually I don’t wear much during the day. Sometimes it looks really inspired but I just make it up as I go along. That can take anything from half an hour to two hours. I just love playing around with colours. (And what’s worse, she doesn’t even get spots because of the make-up). On Glamour: It’s not difficult being glamorous, it just takes a bit of thought, that’s all. And I’ve been known to wear jeans, but only black ones. On Jewellery: I’m thinking of spending £1,500 on this bracelet made out of animal claws and silver rings. It’s beautiful. On Prince: All I can say is looking at the charts, thank God for Prince. I saw him last year when he came to Britain. But that was only because I was five rows from the front. I wouldn’t have gone to Wembley stadium because it is more like a cattle market than a concert. On Catfish: I was watching Animal Roadshow the other day and I saw this brilliant catfish which was more like a cat than a fish. It actually came to the top of the water to be stroked. You could almost hear it purring. On Home: I still love living in London. My favourite countries are Italy and Spain because of the people and architecture. On Aliens: Me, Budgie and a few others went to see Aliens Two and this woman next to Budgie just screamed the whole way through it, it was really funny. The last film I saw was Blue Velvet. I enjoyed it. On Huskies: I don’t really like dogs, but huskies are great with their wonderful Batman eyes. On Dosh: Nobody is really poor in this country. When we went to Brazil, there were people living in cardboard houses. I saw someone begging and I just threw everything I had in my pocket at them. On Politics: I don’t trust people on soapboxes. On Ambition: To have a castle to lock yourself away in. David
Martin 1987 |
||
MELODY MAKER | ||
|
||
|
||
FLYING
DOWN TO RIO
Pioneering down South of the border, SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES have just returned from a tour of Brazil and Argentina. Chris Roberts gets to look at their holiday snaps, swaps anecdotes with Sioux, calls her Linda and still doesn't know which tracks they've recorded for their album of cover versions. The best Christmas present Siouxsie ever had (when she was eight) was a Sindy doll. With hair. I bet you broke it before February. "Oh no. The rabbit bit its nose off." What was the rabbit's name? "Snuggles." Go on! Really? "Yeah. It bit the noses off all my dolls." Did it have a thing about noses? "Fingers, too. It bit all the noses and all the fingers off. And it scared the cats. You know like ladies are supposed to be when they see mice?" You mean "Eek", on chairs and that? "Yeah. Well, this rabbit..." Snuggles. "Yeah, Snuggles. He'd have that effect on the cats." Animals get a lot of mentions in your songs, don't they? "Cats do. I know one thing - if I find someone doesn't like cats, I don't like them. It's quite that black and white with me. There must be something lacking in them if they don't. They tend to be jealous of cats' superiority, I think. The morons." Quite. Do you follow fashion, Siouxsie? "Don't be silly." Siouxsie Sioux's yawn is a very fine yawn, but her laugh is even better. Three boring things to do: 1)
Dance with a bus top; How Siouxsie Sioux orders a margarita in Clerkenwell: 1)
Orders one. Gets a pink thing which isn't it. Sends it back; We're all on her side. Some gracious ladies are born to sow chaos. So Siouxsie Symbol and The Banshee Brothers are all there, only too keen to speak of their travels around Brazil and Argentina and only too reticent about the album of cover versions which will follow their new single, "Wheels on Fire". Budgie is lively and saucer-eyed and sporting new blisters on his hands. John is hungry and humorous. Severin thinks very seriously about everything he (and anybody else) says, rarely smiling. He keeps an eye on Sioux like he's terrified she's suddenly going to blurt out How Everything Really Is. Siouxsie strikes me as being quite capable of managing whatever she feels like managing without any extra eyes, thank you. Siouxsie does not try to intimidate me, as someone had predicted. Siouxsie's favourite record of recent times is "Love Can't Turn Around" by Farley Jackmaster Funk, and her voice is a kind of street-cred Maggie Smith. She likes jokes, dolphins and singing bits of Wagner. She pulls open a Christmas cracker and out comes... a little purple ring. "Have you seen 'Dumbo'?" she asks. Yes, I say, too fond of the memory to lie. "The pink elephant on parade bit! It's outrageous! I'm sure that was the year when all the Walt Disney poeple did acid. It's brilliant; it's so mental!" "Freaky-deaky," comments Budgie. What would you send off as a time capsule into the next century? Just one thing, mind. "What's Opera Doc?" mutters Steve Severin, deadpan. "It's a Bugs Bunny cartoon that says it all." "I'd love to see a Banshee cartoon where we all got squashed flat under lifts and scraped down the sides of walls," muses Budgie. "But if we did a video like that, it'd be banned." Although it's just dandy for animated hares to do it at teatime? "Or when Shakespeare writes about it," observes Siouxsie. "Underage sex and gross violence is alright if Shakespeare says so." Heat and cities in dust: Siouxsie And The Banshees are now pioneers again, official, because no-one from England goes touring around Brazil and Argentina, other than a one-off date. But this is what they just did. Siouxsie is eager to narrate: "We were treated like royalty. It was on the front page of all their serious papers that we were coming. People from Chile, Paraguay, and Uruguay came to our press conference in Buenos Aires. They called us 'the darks'!" Severin: "We'd been working out what to say with regard to politics, but the record company had already sorted it all out and told the press not to ask political questions." John: "So they asked us if we were vegetarians instead." Siouxsie: "We don't hold political debate in every country we go to, so what's the relevance of doing it there? I think both sides were to blame for all that, anyway." Severin: "We could've been seen as the first 'ambassadors of British youth' to play there since The Falklands, but they didn't really seem very interested in that." So what are you the ambassadors of? Siouxsie: "The Banshees. A separate entity." There would appear to be multitudinous anecdotes stemming from The Banshees' invasion of said territory. These include a ticket vendor and his cubicle being trampled underfoot, Siouxsie's minder ("seven foot six with tattooed muscles all dancing" - attrib. Budgie), and finishing off in Rio with rejuvenated readings of "She's A Carnival" and "Helter Skelter" which "stung". "When we played Buenos Aires the biggest shock was that there was a football pig element in the crowd," begins Sioux. "They were gobbing and throwing bubblegum an all that crap, and it was like - oh my God, all this way after all this time and it's like back in Hemel Hempstead eight or nine years ago! But that was just a few idiots, everyone else we saw - whether it was the huge menacing ones or the pretty ones - said they loved it." Budgie: "It wasn't as hot as you might expect. In Los Angeles, earlier, we'd been taken by surprise. You come off and they say 'Do you want your oxygen cylinders now?' and you genuinely think 'Oh. That's a good idea'." Siouxsie: "You know how they talk about The Olympics, and the athletes having to acclimatise and so on... we were given no time to acclimatise. We just had to!" Do you, erm, adapt your dress sense or anything? "No. Should've. But I didn't. No-one wore white shorts or anything." I should think not! "We'd rather suffer!" Did the whole experience make you re-evaluate? See fresh perspectives? Sioux: "I've never seen poverty before like we saw in Sao Paolo. There's shacks on the roadside made out of corrugated iron and bits of cardboard, and little kids in the street with placards in Portuguese saying 'Feed me'. There is a lot of wealth there too but it's just very badly distributed; it's one extreme or the other." Was any of this useful for imagery? was it inspirational? "Well, that'll happen when it sinks in properly, when it becomes conscious rather than subconscious. Our favourite country is Italy, it's so passionate and hot-blooded, and Brazil's comparable to that." Do you feel "English" yourselves? Severin: "I think we're almost uniquely British. The way we sound is ridiculously British." But Britain's so drab and grey! Siouxsie: "Oh we're not patriotic, but... there's nowhere I'd rather live, really, than London. It's absorbed so many different cultures without making a big deal out of it. Of course it's much easier to be positive about it when you've just come back. We certainly don't have tax problems!" I must be crumpling my nose a bit, because... "One irony - as soon as we came back to Heathrow we all got searched and the gear got delayed, so we had to blow out a radio show. Whereas, despite all the speculation, we sailed through Argentina and Brazil, everything was fine, everyone saluted us. Back in England it's - hold it! When are they gonna smarten up and start searching the nuns? And the men in three-piece business suits?" "I'd brought back more than one stuffed armadillo," confesses John. "They'll have you!" hoots Siouxsie. "They'll be knocking on your door!" Frankly you haven't lived until Siouxsie Sioux's thrust an imaginary microphone into your face. This happens when she's telling me how their Latin-American reception was like that The Beatles get in old film clips. She also wondered why the natives persisted in calling her Linda. "Ah! Linda!" Shut up sillies, Siouxsie would say, don't call me Linda. It's Siouxsie. It was only later that she found out "Linda" means "beautiful one". Of course it goes without saying now that punk failed to alter all that much of the popular consciousness because it was so full of spit and snot and ugliness and so devoid of glamour, elegance and romance. The most successful record of the "punk years" was "Saturday Night Fever", a full-price double album. How could your Jimmy Pursey's (gag) hope to compete for influence with your John Travoltas? Once frustrated kids do get jobs, and one or two do, "How Deep Is Your Love" sounds a lot less hassle than "White Riot". You don't wash the car (complete with stereo cassette deck) to the strains of "Gary Gilmore's Eyes". Unless you're me, in which case you haven't got a car. What Siouxsie always did, which was quite a clever thing to do, was to suggest (partly through visual appearance, partly through effective use of imagery) that she and the air immediately surrounding her looked good, and was a bit outside of it all. Thus to find the Siouxsie cult attractive was to align oneself with something not a million miles removed from style. There was always cream in the scream, scope on the Kaleidoscope, jewels in the eyes of the ju-ju, and that kiss in the dreamhouse. the banshees were more Roxy Music that The Roxy. This meant survival beyond the initial adrenalin rush. A few sly references to art and mysticism later, the group find themselves still straddling The Big Time, managing a miraculous balance between The Cure and Kate Bush, between fey will o' the wisps and barrel-chested stadium-rock organs. It's a fortunate and realistically admirable achievement. For every comfortable (and comforting, like candy) regurgitation of their own clichés there has been a moment of dangerously bright red and green beauty. "Spellbound." Dazzle." Just words? I like a bit of dazzle now and again myself. Are you still writing about obsessions and insatiable desires and people having extreme reactions to situations? Siouxsie (after a long pause): "I suppose... for it to have a point we'll always write that way. And perform theatrically." With violent crimes-of-passionesque imagery? (This is me laying it on with a trowel.) Severin: "You must realise the whole idea of being on a stage is always much larger than life. Therefore, strong things will come out grandiose in songs. You have to really hit people over the head with a mallet to make them understand, to show them there's something other than what's just forced through their eyeballs. In the age we live in we just get blasted with bland mellow things, so it's important to have powerful and, yes, sometimes violent imagery about what you do." To wake the children up from their slumbers? "To wake yourself up, first." Are you afraid of routine? "Not afraid of it, because we know we can do it. We just get bored by it very quickly." You've always been seen as style icons... Siouxsie: "Of a certain style... probably..." Severin: "You have to have a lot of substance to make the style work. We usually attract quite a pretty audience anyway!" What do you think of glamour? Siouxsie: "What... glamour in general?" Sure. Whatever. "We all admire Prince, even though it's clichéd." Mmm. Saw you at Wembley. Severin: "We've always been interested in the Hollywood Babylon side of it. The tackiness." The decadence? "In a ways. A its best it leads to there." What about pop-art? (I just throw these things in y'know?). "Oh we're - ah - post-modernist glamourbilly, yes. I always think it's the dickheads who say they're whatever artistically, while the people who are actually being creative and innovative just do it without talking too much about it. Obviously we're in a business where we have to talk about it but it's not the most enjoyable or rewarding part." Siouxsie: "things come out first and get discussed afterwards." Severin: "You can use influences directly or indirectly. A book - 'Painted Bird' - a story, a film. It's quite faddish, I suppose, and that's what makes it pop still. You get involved with something. They're miles away from each other but you can pull them all together. Cross-reference the images you want. And then you can watch something like 'Cinderella'..." Does anything still surprise you? Siouxsie: "That people have heard of us." Severin: "Or that they haven't." Siouxsie: "Well, that's the difference between us." Budgie: "Or... that we've just done 'Razzmatazz'." What's the most common misinterpretation of The Banshees? John: "That we're a bunch of miserable bastards." Severin: "We haven't had too much of a bad time from the media, really. What's the biggest thing we can moan about? Being called 'darks'? I can live with that." Can you live with bizarre letters from unexpected sources? "We used to get a lot from people in prison, or in the navy, who wanted to assert it was some sort of lifeline, because they were trapped within a certain situation and saw us as an escape. Which is quite ironic because we never deal with the question of escape; more with facing things. A Madonna record or something, which is just simplistic, cannot alleviate..." But you trade in dreams! All of you! Siouxsie: "Yes, but people who consider dreams to be nothing to do with reality are being narrow-minded. At least a quarter of your life is dreaming; how can you dismiss it? You're a fool not to be affected by it. It's usually quite harrowing, and it's usually telling you something..." Your nightmares don't always come true? "Only in that usually the dreams as 'larger-than-'life', they're a more frightening version of your everyday situation... that you're in a rut. Or confusion. They're a warning, at least." Severin: "We've always just striven to be as in control and independent as we can be. In everything you do you're achieving that, because you're gaining more experience and knowledge as to what's the best way." Siouxsie: "Your ideals can stop you doing things if you're too scared. You have to keep working while learning - that's the hardest and the best way of doing things. And of keeping your morals intact." If there's a place for everything in this wibbly-wobbly world, then a Banshees album of cover versions is not so much a bitten nail in the coffin of teen revolt as a long overdue Party Trick Revisited. "Dear Prudence" was one thing. The Creatures' carvings were another. "Wheels On Fire", I'm told, is full of Eastern strings and Western whims and nothing like the Julie Driscoll with The Brian Auger Trinity version. "I played it to my brother and he was trying to sing along to it, says Siouxsie. "But he couldn't." The group aren't very forthcoming about the forthcoming album, which will be in the shops in February, unless you buy it, in which case it'll be in your home in February. The choice of songs is apparently "interesting" but a "surprise". I persevere, nagging - can this be as "challenging" as creating your own new songs? Siouxsie: "In a way, because we have to make them ours. The lyrics mattered. There were certain suggestions I just would not sing because the lyrics were dreadful." Do they have to possess an enigmatic quality? (Fortunately for interview purposes I'm one of the few people in the world who can says words like "enigmatic" with a straight face.) "Well... one we didn't do was 'What's New Pussycat?' We seriously considered it, but... it didn't quite work out." Severin: "I was sick." John: "All we had to do was find a certain charm in a song and elaborate on it. Deconstruct it and free it." Budgie does not harbour secret desires to go into market gardening but John plans a solo project, eventually with non-musical friends. "You've always got things on the go," laughs the drummer. "It's not as if you sit at home thinking - 'oh, one day I'll build this matchbox castle.' But I guess I've left it too late for the ballet-dancing now." Nevertheless, I'm trying to tell Linda she should be a movie star. "It's not an ambition of mine, I'd rather be on the other side of the camera." Really? To capture what? "Just... camera angles. I'm really pissed off with cameramen. I'd like to be in a position where you can explain what you're visualising, and get it." Get what? What sides of life? "I don't think it matters what you represent as long as you do it well, and with that tension. I like it to have an edge to it. Scary. Exciting." Do you dislike censorship? "Yes, cos the censors don't have that much sensitivity. They just throw a blanket over." So. Would you say you'd done most things? "No! If I thought that, I'd get my pipe and slippers. Go sit on a cushion." A gaggle of office workers trump into the winebar and begin their annual party... surprise, it's about 7pm on a Friday. Paper hats are donned. Hair down or what? Siouxsie reckons they'll all be paranoid about catching AIDS this time round; it's the in phobia. We agree that Bruce Springsteen is a much more chic aversion. Any which way, Argentina had a very good year in 1986. "You should see the look of sheer horror when you say 'No-one backstage beforehand, no flotsam and jetsom, just keep it clear...' And they say 'But Blah Blah the surf punk is here'. And you say 'I don't care if it's The Queen...'" Oh, but what a meeting that would be. Chris
Roberts 10/01/87 |
||