The singer Siouxsie Sioux said she could never be: “I’ve got too much of Beryl the Peril in me”
Siouxsie Sioux quickly became a staple that bridged the gap between punk and the new wave. But despite her vitality, there has always been a part of her appeal which has gone partly unsung.
This might seem criminal to some, given how significant and transcendental Sioux was, and remains to be, in that heady space of music history. But in other ways, a slightly underrated allure is something which the woman herself quite enjoys. It meant she was a true original. It meant she wasn’t just reeled off the production line like every other star.
That worked largely in her favour when promoting a unique brand of fusing the post-punk and new wave eras together, something that might seem like a daunting task to many other artists, but that she took on as her greatest calling to the musical world. It was certainly a unique position to be in; one that could quickly become awkward if not carried off properly. Yet, if there were difficulties, Sioux never let it show.
Indeed, the challenges of the sonic brand she was trying to harbour were something she deeply embraced, as she realised it symbolised something far more deliciously layered than the cookie-cutter appeal of the mainstream charts. That became more and more apparent to her as the 1980s drew on and the new wave turned into a tsunami, with the force of that pop niche far stronger than she ever wanted to be.
“Around [the] mid-to-late ‘70s was a really exciting time for women; there wasn’t a battle of the sexes. Of course, that changed very quickly in the ’80s, and then it became very industry-friendly female frontpeople, which is probably why Blondie were so successful,” Sioux later mused. It was clear, from that moment forward, that she viewed herself and Debbie Harry as no two peas in a pod.
Although the Blondie frontwoman might have typically been categorised as a counterpart to Sioux in terms of their sonic similarities between punk and the new wave, it was clear that the British singer didn’t appreciate the comparison. After all, Harry became known as a polished fashion icon; where was the goth, the grit, the true unkempt appeal?
Sioux described this exactly when she said that Harry produced “Good pop, but definitely fits easily into that cover girl kind of thing. I’ve got too much of Beryl The Peril in me to be totally taken to the heart of the music industry.” That cartoonish tormenting almost makes Sioux seem like a caricature of herself, but rest assured that everything she harnessed was the realest of the real.
Of course, this is not to say that Harry possessed no ounce of blazing spirit within her. As a female beacon in the hounds of a ravaging male-dominated rock music industry, she simply wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for a heavy dose of tenacity. But in Sioux’s eyes, that wasn’t the same thing as being a true underground icon.
That was what kept her quite satisfied with being considered the underdog, compared to the likes of Harry. She was never going to be a worldwide icon, but being hailed as a god within her own little corner, with all its kooks and eccentricities, was all she ever needed. If only everyone else could live by that mantra, and maybe music would be so much more interesting.
