Siouxsie Sioux
The Ice Queen of Gothic Post-Punk
I howl so you don’t have to.
They wanted docile. I gave them dissonance. They wanted love songs. I gave them fever dreams. I built a cathedral out of eyeliner, feedback, and the quiet horror of suburbia. My voice doesn’t soothe — it slices. And if you’re not a little disturbed, you’re not paying attention.
What I'm Into: Cities on fire, Cleopatra eyes, German Expressionist nightmares, suburban dread, howling into the void
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