Lydia Lunch
Queen Of Siam

THE REVIEW

A controversial and emblematic figure of the no-wave (that movement from the late 70s to early 80s which was somewhat the extreme of punk, a kind of praise to noise), Lydia Lunch made her solo debut with this "Queen Of Siam", after being part of the historic "Teenage Jesus". Bearer of a latent anguish, a perennial dissatisfaction, but above all more or less explicit sexual messages, Lydia pours all her bratty ego into this music. The album is made in collaboration with Billy Van Der Plank's orchestra and under the supervision of Pat Irwin, who plays all the sax parts. The result is a highly original work, composed of covers and original pieces, without the slightest musical coherence, embracing multiple genres without ever definitively settling into one.

It starts with the bored chant of "Mechanical Flattery", underscored by just a few drum beats and a drowsy piano. Lydia sings indifferently, seemingly forced into place. The next track is the splendid "Gloomy Sunday", arranged with a mournful piano and a very velvety sax. Wonderfully distressing. The catchy "Spooky" shows us a Lunch that seems like a sophisticated and decadent version of Madonna. Then it changes again, with the drunken flamenco of "Los Banditos", and onward to the next, an irresistible disco (!) lullaby "Atomic Bangos", a whirlwind of pounding drums at the edge of paranoia. Another disguise: Lydia becomes a nightclub entertainer in a voluptuous evening gown and sings "Lady Scarface", a smoky blues complete with trumpet and ramshackle piano. And what about "Carnival Fat Man"? Sadistic laughter, out-of-tune instruments, a grotesque and hallucinated nightmare cabaret. A small masterpiece.

As you might have guessed, we are in front of one of those "cult" albums in the history of rock. A special work of great personality, that incorporates more genres, scratches them, debases them, and then throws them away.