If you thumb through a few of the texts that document the UK side of the punk era, you're likely to come across Siouxsie Sioux with her pal Chrissie Hynde all dolled up with the rest of the the Bromley Contingent (the first batch of hardcore Pistols fans) in zipped rubber suits and shredded leathers doing propaganda shots for Malcolm McClaren's gob empire circa 1976. It wasn't long after that that Siouxsie and the first set of Banshees (with no less than Sid Vicious himself on drums), did their first gig - the set consisting entirely of an extended version of the Lord's Prayer. By '78 they'd released long player number one; The Scream. And though the airbrushes might be working over the album portraits a bit harder now, the band is still enjoying the second wind that began with their release of Superstition some three or four years back. Partially produced by Velvet's man John Cale, The Rapture is something of an poignant amalgamation of all that's been the Banshees up until now. "O Baby" starts the disc off with virtually the same (and it might very well be the same) backward snare shuffle that set off "Peekaboo" a few singles ago, "Stargazer" and "Love Out of Me" have Budgie thumping away in the classic style of 1980's "Christine", and "Not Forgotten" has Steve Severin's bass dipped in enough of its trademark chorus to make it sound about a hundred feet tall again. And in the middle of all this and some epic atmospheres from guitarist Jon Klein and keyboardist/cellist Martin McCarrick is Siouxsie's voice still veering between being perfectly icy and endearing all at once. Bands steeped in as much production as the Banshees are have generally show a loss of restraint as they edge closer to the double decade mark and usually drown in their own excesses. But this lot has always known when to offset the dense, weighted moments with enough space to allow the listener some breathing room. Between Cale and their own knob twiddling they manage to make the somewhat dicey transitions between moments like the pleasant, lightheartedness of "Fall From Grace" to some of their more touchstone gothic fare like "Not Forgotten" and back again. But what's more telling of their matured grace is something like "Sick Child, " where they do all of the above in the space of one track and still have the liberty to toss in some off kilter psychedelia as well. Page and Plant may have had a nine year head start, but the overall strength of The Rapture makes it appears that the Banshees might have a better idea about how to keep the majority of their primary colours bright and lively should they wind up commiting themselves to decade number three.
