Reviews

Band Biography: "Our songs are all about what happens to us on a day to day level," says Skunk Anansie vocalist Skin, summing up the essence of the multi-racial British quartet's blistering debut recording, Paranoid And Sunburnt.

Paranoid and Sunburnt

Paranoid And Sunburnt meets the challenge of capturing the frenetic Skunk Anansie live sound, an invigorating blend of punk, funk, hard rock and reggae. The album was co-produced by the band and Sylvia Massey (Tool, Bikini Kill). "She got the best sounds out of us that she could," enthuses Skin. "When we recorded the album, we went through every single extreme that you could," recalls Skin. "We had a brilliant time. And other times we went completely mad, stir crazy." That frenzied atmosphere is captured in the video for the band's first single, the searing Selling Jesus. With a white cross emblazoned across her face, Skin attacks organized religion for misleading innocents with falsehoods in order to line their pockets. Again and again in the course of Paranoid And Sunburnt, Skin returns to the thorny issue of racism with the tracks Little Baby Swastikkka and Intellectualize My Blackness. Elsewhere, tight musicianship and cohesive songwriting allows Skunk Anansie to turn in gentler performances, like Charity and the lilting 100 Ways To Be A Good Girl.

Skin realizes that Skunk Anansie, the first successful rock band ever fronted by a Black woman, may baffle some. "I'm being portrayed as the angry Black lesbian," she laughs. "Everyone thinks I'm 6'3"!" But that's all part of the game plan, as Skunk Anansie are designed to provoke their listeners in an inspired, genuine fashion. Even their peculiar name reflects that aim: Anansie is an eight-legged human protagonist in the Jamaican equivalent of the American Uncle Remus stories. "He's the king of mischief," explains Cass. "And the Skunk aspect is just the stinkiest thing we could think of. It's one of those names that - once you can bring your mind to remember it - you'll never forget."

Peter Day's review of Paranoid and Sunburnt

Alistair Stewarts' review of live SA gig

Article - Rise up: Skunk Anansie drench the town pump - The Peak, Simon Fraser University's Student Newspaper since 1965, Simon Fraser University, Burnaby, British Columbia, Canada V5A 1S6, e-mail: peak@sfu.ca, phone: (604) 291-3597 fax: (604) 291-3786

November compliments Gastown. As rain descends into reservoirs, Water Street seemingly endorses its slick sheen as a Cindy Crawford type would accept a new and cosmetic aesthetic when it is massaged by the greased fingers of an unhinged weather pattern. The mahogany atmosphere blossoms. Wet. Sleek. Radiant.

Water imagery is incredibly appropriate to describe the in-concert abilities of Skunk Anansie. As November compliments Gas Town, ferocious live shows compliment Skunk Anansie. They drench the crowd in an spontaneous energy that very few bands would even attempt.

Some bands may get into the sullen, hoping-for-a- psychic connection trip when they play live. Other bands may get into an identity crisis where they are throwing on a million costumes because they just can't remember who the hell the were the day before, thus formulating a general consensus among audience members that would read, "that was just too weird to be cool."

Skunk Anasie, on the other hand, just play. That's right, they just get up on stage and do their thing and enjoy it. I know, it would be easier to believe that someone could spit Tabasco sauce through their facial pores than a band in this day and age could visibly enjoy playing live. However, Skunk Anansie is a band that challenges this notion, which is exactly what Skunk Anansie did, on November 28, when they opened up for Pure at the Town Pump.

Recently out of Britain, this band is slowly seeping into the North American psyche. The single, Selling Jesus, is getting some air play on Much Music. As well, they have a song, "Feel," on the Strange Days Soundtrack. Before this train of thought clamors completely symmetrically onto the rails of record company band bio, I'm going to flee this informational tangent.

Paranoid and Sunburnt, Skunk Anansie's only album, seems to suffer from the desire for immaculate production. The energy of this band only peers out on the album. It's restrained. Imagine Romeo and Juliet grasping for each other as they suffocate themselves with cellophane instead of succumbing to poison; it's an energy like that.

Live, Skunk Anasie leaves the constraints of recording behind them. That rage and vehemence that pokes through on CD, is set free in a mad sort of way. I mean mad, as in crazy, absolutely, off the rocker, screaming, bouncing, bashing, obscene, Daffy Duck on mescaline , really kind of crazy.

Skin, the tall and sometimes militant front person, jitters around the stage like someone who has an hour-long pass from the asylum and has seen the light of something much more accessible than God, which she has to share with people before she is thrown back into a straightjacket. She performs like an enlightened lunatic, attempting to provide an electric form of redemption to whomever gets the succulent opportunity to see her.

The band continues the madness in a milder form. The drummer is a gigantic fellow, who bashes his kit like he's taking vengeance out on it for some kind of abuse. The bassist is also a fairly muscular fellow. But, he does not get nasty, he gets oddly joyous. Throughout the show, he smiled in a suggestive mannerwhich could have e meant that he was pleasantly surprised that the audience was responding to the band, or that he had set up a prank where systematic areas of the ceiling would cave in on those who were not responding. The guitarist strummed away like he was feeding off the band, but was too snobbish to acknowledge them. A varied concoction such as this is exactly what allows Skunk Anansie to be so utterly brilliant in a live show: they are more of a visual than an audio band. This idea could suggest something about the CD (or the CD's quality), but I'm reviewing the show, not the CD.

Anyway, I felt sorry for Pure. To top an act like Skunk Anansie would be like trying to masturbate with an watermelon and getting off on it as it remains completely intact. Skunk Anansie gives the kind of performance that headliners (and their egos) should be wary of about. I tried to find out the secret to this band when I asked the guitarist, Ace, what inspires the almost spiritual endeavour that they assume when they hit the stage. He responded, "We're all on the same vibe." A Niagara vibe.

DeMontfort Hall, Leicester 2nd Dec 96

On a cold December evening as we stood outside the De Montfort hall we were confronted by the sad news that Skunk Anansie were lost somewhere between Ireland, Scotland and Leicester. As we stood there freezing our tits off our evening had again found its meaning SA had arrived, at last we were welcomed into the warmth and comfort of De Montford hall, the warmth being the bar.

A two and a half hour wait was then rewarded with a full view of the glorious stage from the front row. First on stage were the technicians confirming a number of times that, 'yes, the drums did work'. As the audience's patience began to wither the support band Stereophonics took to the stage, and the long wait was over. Their music was fast and wild, just what was needed to warm up the crowd for SA. Stereophonics are a lesser known band, but their performance showed a talent which has yet to be recognised by the British public. Finally the moment came and Skin emerged with a devilish smile, perched upon the drum kit. The crowd then snapped as a wave of euphoria swept across the hall.

As the opening line of 'Yes It's Fucking Political' shook Leicester. Skin's stunning show-woman's-ship enthralled the crowd, as she leaped about the stage, and occasionally into the audience. Cass's performance on bass reaffirmed him as one of the best live bass players around, while Mark Richardson battered shit out of the drums like he'd just been let out of the local asylum. Ace performed like Jimi Hendrix on twice as much wizz as usual. This combination made the crowd go wild.

The highlight of the show came when members of SA's devoted posse were invited up onto the stage to take part in, 'Charity' and 'Little Baby Swastika'. This act proves that SA still have affection for their disciples unlike other modern day bands who let the security guards smother them in cotton wool, so that the crowd can't get anywhere near them.

All in all the night was worth the long cold wait, and having to survive the crush of a very eager crowd.

Mike Gee's Review

Equinox Festival, Macquarie University, March 30th

Skunk Anansie - Skin's a star. The only woman in rock capable of giving you heart attack just watching her. The band's a class act but the drumming's sounding a might staid. Still when they hit the anthems such as "All I Want" and "Yes, It's Fuckin' Political" they slam with a ferocity that's stunning. What they need most of all now is some new songs. The set was remarkably similar to last year's Sex Pistols support and they haven't stopped touring since.

Sheila's 96 review from the pit

Coney Island High New York City - spring '96

With big grooves, funky bass lines and huge riffs, Skunk Anansie came kicking and slamming into New York City. One woman (Skin) plus three men (Cass Lewis, Ace and Mark Richardson) rocked Coney Island High hard throughout an entire set. The New York crowd packed into the sweltering club and didnt stop moving throughout the show: not even during the ballads.

Skin is one fierce sister. In hot red polyester and black vinyl, Skin worked the audience to a frenzy with her acrobatic stage antics. And can she wail? Skin showed her extraordinary vocal range to an appreciative crowd doing excellent live versions of "Weak" and "Charity". Not to diss the rest of the band, but you couldnt help but remain riveted on Skin all night...shes that hot.

Skunk are known for their frenetic, incendiary live shows and this was no exception. The sound was huge and powerful for three musicians giving you an ample feel of their deep funk, punk and reggae grooves. Skunk has been touring widely and has played to tens of thousands in Europe, doing such stellar events as the Reading Festival. It was obvious from their sumptuous transportation that Skunk is already successful in other places. So why are they still pretty much unknown in the States? Could it be that theyre the only live rock band fronted by a wailing bald Black woman? Give Lenny Kravitz props for recognizing such talent and picking them up for a tour. Maybe well all get hip to Skunk soon.

Skin @ The Scala, London, 6 May 2003

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