London Highbury Upstairs At The Garage

Predictably, the hordes of panda-eyed fetishists feverishly anticipating some[B] Banshees[/B]-style banter will leave unsatisfied...

Good to see some things never change. “This one’s for all the leeches and parasites,” leers Siouxsie Sioux, gracelessly. Whether she is referring to a) journalists, b) the Siouxsie faithful squashed down the front, or c) just leeches and parasites in general is open to conjecture.

Fittingly, much of The Creatures‘ creative muse is open to conjecture, also. Eschewing rational orthodoxy for something a little more, shall we say, flamboyant, Siouxsie and Budgie‘s current incarnation is a veritable whirl of doomy electro cast-offs and cackling castanets; of scowling atmospherics and howling Mediterranean vocal antics. With added nasty sonic bits.

Predictably, the hordes of panda-eyed fetishists feverishly anticipating some Banshees-style banter will leave unsatisfied. For ‘Arabian Nights’ see an evening spent in the company of chewable chunks of new album, ‘Anima Animus’. For ‘Spellbound’ see some moderately compelling theatrics, the majority of which surround the none-more-black-clad Siouxsie herself as she shimmies between her bassist and guitarist. Indeed, such is The Creatures‘ severe lack of compromise you get the sneaking suspicion you should feel grateful even for a mid-set rendition of ‘Miss The Girl’.

Still, just as a leopard doesn’t ever change his spots, so one slyly admires the Sioux’s sneering indifference. Twenty years in the trenches can do things to an artiste. Besides, the way she dedicates a terrific ‘Say’ to Billy MacKenzie suggests it’s not all venom spitting in The Creatures‘ garden of delights. Not quite, anyway.