Is it the job of an icon to fulfil expectations or to toy with them? The return to London of Siouxsie Sioux, so often lumbered with the soubriquet “queen of the goths”, isn’t heralded by a symbolic release of bats but by four dancing girls in tiaras and spangly bikinis. A stand-up band play cabaret ragtime. This beautifully restored east London venue screams art deco glamour, not post-punk anomie.
When Siouxsie herself emerges wearing a gauzy ice-blue gown, the effect is more Greek goddess than art rock provocateur. But then the woman born Susan Ballion has long been a performer all too easy to caricature, with so many elements played down in favour of the low-hanging fruit: pharaonic makeup, big hair, punk-era fetish wear.
