Review
Is that the sound of mist swirling in on whispered secrets, or is that the opening strains of "Juju" I hear? Siouxsie and the Banshees unleashed their fourth studio opus, "Juju," upon the world on 19th June 1981, pulling us all into a moody cauldron of post-punk splendour. With this outing, the band returned to a guitar-heavy palette, a decision gifted by the genius handiwork of John McGeoch. If you lean towards darkness and urgency, this one's for you—it channels the captivating allure found in the shadows more than a late-night horror film marathon.
You've got "Spellbound" whirling you into a frenzy; its rhythm’s so bewitching that Budgie’s drumming alongside McGeoch’s frantic strings feels like a spooky dance you've been invited to join. Not one to miss out, Siouxsie turns "Arabian Knights" into an anthem, belting out razor-sharp commentary on the state of womanhood— mighty vocals meet pleas of liberation. Then, McGeoch jumps into symphonic territory with "Into the Light," surprising us with guitar artistry reminiscent of a string quartet's performance. "Monitor," the punk-funk juggernaut chimes in, painting a picture so ominously Orwellian you might reconsider your own relationship with Big Brother.
Steven Severin hinted that "Juju" was drawn from the pools of darkness not through explicit planning but an organic gravitation towards the sinister side of things—which is probably why it's deemed a massive slice of genius by Morrissey, Robert Smith, and many others. If we chat goth influence, Siouxsie politely waves a dismissive hand, embracing instead their unique art of curating nerve-shredding tension within verses and vocal lines. Spotlighted or not, "Juju's" mark will last until ears weary of its brilliance—gorgeous proof that the post-punk groove still marches in time yonder forevermore. - Milly
