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Chapter 24 Mid February, 1992 James Carroway was surprised to walk into his office, only to find Kim Kissably reclining in his chair, her fading and unkempt hair spilling around her. It had been a long time since he last heard from her; when she and her grrls had set off for their national tour, in fact. “Well.” He stood where he was, hands clasped in front of him. Kim at least took her feet off his desk before looking at him. “I broke into your room. I broke down in my room.” James waited, knowing she wouldn’t say something like that without explaining herself. “Siouxsie Sioux. It’s off Kiss in the Dreamhouse. Granted, her songs aren’t as good as Severin’s when you consider that album, but she’s still Siouxsie.” “Severin is?” “The bassist of the Banshees. Steve Severin. He and Siouxsie wrote all the songs, basically.” “I never knew there was a large male presence behind the Banshees.” James lowered himself into the only other seat in the room, the one at the front of the desk. It was a role reversal that had happened before while Kim was in his office, but he didn’t mind playing her games. At least she always had something intelligent to say. “Yeh, you wouldn’t have thought that, would you? Kim Kissably worships a woman who works with men to create her genius music.” Kim shook her head. “The band is all male. And she married her drummer. Did you know that? Not too long ago. Last year. Can you imagine marrying the drummer?” “Don’t like the thought of drummers?” “Nah. Name me one good, famous drummer.” James smiled. “Kevin Haskins.” “Who?” “Ebony would be ashamed of you.” “Why?” “Drummer of Bauhaus.” Kim bit her lip, her face going red. “I’m just tired, that’s all. Tired and off kilter.” “What have you been up to that’s so very tiring?” “Writing.” Kim pulled the chair closer up to the desk so she could lean on her elbows. “The sound’s changed. So much that it scares me, but if you tell anyone that, I’ll find myself a new label.” He nodded. “Want to give me an example?” “Darkling Asking is going to be on the album.” That surprised him. He had heard a demo Kim put together for that song. The fact alone that it was told through the eyes of a man made it different from everything else Kim had ever even talked about doing. “Though that’s not new.” “No. That’s very, very old. What’s new is Elegant Bleeding.” “That is?” “A song.” He sighed. “Thank you, Kim Kissably. I had something else in mind. How about you tell me the lyrics?” She made a face. “Nah. I actually want to defend the fact that I can respect guys who make music.” “Alright. Talk.” “Artists are different. Not just male artists, any artist. To be an artist, you have to be so much more open and feeling. If you’re an artist, you don’t fit any of the cruel stereotypes that have been set out for genders.” “So what men do you call artists?” “Steve Severin. Peter Murphy. Andrew Eldritch. Robert Smith. Danny Elfman. Tim Burton.” “So are all artists goth?” Kim laughed. “Maybe. All artists are weird, if nothing else.” “I notice that three of your artists have a connection to Siouxsie Sioux.” She smiled. “Yes, quite true. Steve Severin is part of the Banshees. Robert Smith was guitarist with them for one year and one live album. And oh, how beautiful Nocturne was. And Danny Elfman is working on a single with Sioux now... It’s supposed to be out in spring. It’ll be on the Batman Returns soundtrack.” James smirked, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I know. The idea was old and tired the first time Burton and Elfman got together. But just think of it this way: Michelle Pfeiffer in a vinyl outfit so tight and so black that even Elke would be jealous. Doesn’t that make it all worth it?” “Maybe. So do you know what the single is called?” “Face to Face. I can’t wait.” “Hm.” “You know, I am here for a reason.” Kim slipped out from behind the desk, pacing in the open space of his office. “And that reason would be?” “I want to discuss album number two. My grrls are all off on vacation right now, so it’s the safest time to come to you.” “Well, what do you want said about your next album?” “I want it to be more commercial. Not like selling out, just... Less intimidating than Torn Horses. I want it to be more honest.” “I never expected this of you.” “James...” She came back and sat on the desk, right in front of him. “I am telling you this, but never anything else with a prick, understand?” He nodded, waiting through the silence that fell as Kim struggled with herself. “I... That damn fucking mentality, that bullshit stage act, almost got Chatha raped, and I can’t stand it. I just can’t bloody stand it. I’m not like that, Carroway. No matter how much I would like to be. I’m not that strong, not that sure, not that bloody important. If I were, no one would have gotten hurt.” “You’re willing to admit this to me?” “Carroway, listen to me.” She slipped off the desk, took his hands, and kneeled in front of him. Her head was bowed; she couldn’t look at him while she was like this. “I want you to cancel our contract. I want you to fire us. I can’t quit the band, I just can’t. I want you to end the band for me. Please.” “You came here to talk to me about a new album, Kim, not ending the most promising career I’ve seen in a long time.” “Don’t you have any humanity? Please just tear up the contract. The other grrls can do something, but I can’t keep this up.” “I understand.” He freed one of his hands and pushed Kim’s face up by the chin so he could look at her. “I understand, but you’ll hate me if I let you quit.” “How could you understand?” “You’re not the only one who ever had a band, Kim. Take a seat, alright?” She withdrew, giving him a long look before walking around the desk to sit in his swivel chair again. “You can’t tell me you ever made music, Carroway. You’re too distant.” “Why am I too distant?” “You just watch, just observe. I can’t imagine you creating.” “Then you really won’t believe that I was frontman in a small punk project in ’79.” “Nah!” Kim shook her head. “Why?” “You’re too proper. You’re from a high class family.” “What makes you think that?” “Your bloody accent. It’s so proper, it’s sickening.” “It’s acquired. I talked more like Chatha when I was in this band.” “What was it called?” “Torture Town.” “Huh, I can see why that didn’t last long.” James smiled. “I didn’t name it.” “Who did?” “My best friend, the drummer. Ex best friend. That happens with teen friendships. You discover you really have nothing in common and can’t stand each other. Or have too much in common, and get scared away.” “I’ve still got Elke.” “Have you?” Kim shifted uncomfortably. “Tell me about Terror Town.” “Torture Town.” “Whatever.” “It was a load of teen angst.” “You were a teen in ’79?” “As much as you’re a teen now.” “You’re a lot younger than I thought...” “How old did you think I was?” “A gracefully aged 40 year old?” “Oh, thank you. Do I have my mid-life crisis now or later? And does it require that I grow one of those stupid artists’ pony tails?” “And a goatee. That triangular devil’s goatee that always goes with the pony tail.” Kim leaned back in the chair. “It’s just that I thought you were with Beggars’ from the beginning. You seem like a permanent fixture, not old.” “I suppose that makes it a bit better.” “So tell me about your ex band, Carroway.” “There’s not much to say, except that it drove Hubert, the drummer, and I apart. Best friends going in, worst enemies coming out. I spent just over two years in Torture Town, and while I was in it, no matter how much it hurt, I had to keep going. Music is a release and an obsession.” “So why’d you end up quitting?” “I didn’t. The band fell apart on its own. I never could have quit. No matter how much I wanted to, quitting would have killed me.” “How long did it last?” “Three years. I almost went too far with the hatred and drugs, but things collapsed before it could get there. I’m amazed I survived at all.” “So how did you? I’m assuming this is a lesson of sorts.” James shrugged. “As much as anything can be a lesson, I suppose. I found myself a job as a techie here at Beggars’. It was easier to work the science of music. And it was my time to no longer be in a band. I got myself together, and I’m a big hotshot now.” “From techie to administration. Huh. So you’re saying ‘and you too can do this if you let your band run its course’? Because that’s just bloody stupid.” “No, I’m saying you’ll find your place if you let life run its course.” “So you won’t cancel my band?” “Not with the potential you have.” “Carroway, I want out...” “You’re not ready yet.” She looked at him for a long time, then pushed back from his desk. “You up for hearing one of the new songs?” “Yes. I’m curious about this Elegant Bleeding that you mentioned.” “Thought you would be. This’ll give you a pretty good idea for the sound of the album. Forgetful Forgettable, Taken, and Forbidden Guilt Trip are really similar to it. So’s Fraying at the Edges.” “A lot of ‘f’ titles in this one.” “Huh, I hadn’t thought of that.” “So tell me what the album’s called first.” “Blackened Princess.” She said it without even thinking. Realizing its portent, she ducked her head. “Will you explain that?” “Has to do with the forced, not the intentional, loss of innocence. It’s inspired by one of my Darling grrl’s sketches. Long story, in all.” “Ah.” “So, the lyrics of Elegant Bleeding are actually quite different from what you’d expect of me. You ready?” James nodded. Taking a quick breath, Kim looked away from him and began to sing. She didn’t want to see the look on his face as he took in her new style. “She’s a lady ‘till the end, believe. Believe. She holds onto faith so tenaciously, oh believe me.” Looking somewhat shocked, James leaned in closer. “The word ‘lady’ is in your vocabulary?” “Yeh. And I’ve stopped using grrl in my lyrics... Don’t know why.” “Well, let me hear the rest of this one.” “She’ll hold her head high, believe me. Believe me. She’ll hold it there until she’s gone, oh believe me. Some would call it senseless and turn the other way, but I see it as it is, the elegant bleeding. Some don’t understand that when there is no other way, it’s the only way out; the elegant bleeding.” He shook his head. “Suicide, Kim?” “I never said I was talking about me. Let me continue?” “Yes.” “And there’s so much you expect from her. She’s lived in a path set for your expectations. She’s decadent and delicate, wasting away so gracefully, giving way under her elegant bleeding.” “Who are you talking about?” “Shh.” She put her finger to her lips, then continued singing. “She’s a lady ‘till the end, believe me. Believe me. She holds onto faith so tenaciously, oh believe me. Some would call it senseless and turn the other way, but I see it as it is; the elegant bleeding. Some don’t understand that when there is no other way, it’s the only way out; the elegant bleeding.” “Who, Kim?” “I don’t know. A girl tired of standing in her place. A grrl not strong enough to forge her own path. Some part of my mind, maybe? But not me. I’m not going to die, not any time soon.” “I know you don’t plan on living past 30.” “Who does, Carroway?” He sighed. “When will you be recording?” “As soon as my grrls get back.”
Including lyrics from Siouxise and the Banshees Obsession, written by Siouxsie
and the Banshees, © Polydor Ltd. (London), 1987. |
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