 
The Spitz, London, 2 December 2003
Marc Blackie
2 January 2004 This review also features Squad 69. synthpop electronic industrial novelty | An interesting night tonight at The Spitz as part of a new Active series of evenings to promote enhanced access to live music for those with disabilities, the three bands all performed with a signer on stage to add to the somewhat bizarre nature of the acts performing. Another feature of the evening was the DJing set by Alan Mcgee, who seemed a tad bemused by what he witnessed that evening...something that not many would blame him for.
I have to confess to missing out on Duel - this recent habit I have fallen into where by visiting restaurants and getting carried away with the desert menu before going to gigs has seen me miss more than a few acts I would overwise liked to have seen. So much for my dedication to music....
I was in time to catch Squad 69 though, who have a very early nineties feel to them...think Jesus Jones, Pop Will Eat Itself etc and you'll be getting a rough idea. Consisting of bassist, guitarist and female vocalist (as well as a selection of rhythm heavy backing tracks) the band do lack a little something else in this live incarnation. The songs seem to need a lead instrument of some description to break up the pummelling rhythmic assault, but you are left with the impression that this barrage is somewhat the point of the music and as such the group can't be faulted for delivering. One nagging thing though is the fact that the band's bassist does tend to overshadow the vocalist, at a few points going so far as talking over her in-between songs. This does undermine the singer's stage presence and as it seemed to take her a few numbers to get into her stride it does detract somewhat from the overall live experience.
Being described by The Times as "The Velvet Underground of the 21st Century" is certainly some title to live up to and is also utterly misleading when it comes to describing the JuJu Babies. Misty Woods fronts the band and tonight is dressed in little more than a bin liner with the word "Trash" taped on. This is not uncommon for the charismatic singer and figurehead of the band, who in a fetching blonde wig and a wardrobe seemingly consisting of carrier bags and fetish garb manages to remain the focal point when the band are on stage. This is no easy task, as the rest of the group are generally dressed just as extravagantly.
The main musical force of the band is Styx, who hangs about at the back of the stage in a yellow feather boa and military garb, prodding his keyboard with a menacing glee. The Reverend Jeremiah Hobb, waves his hands around a theremin (which to this day I've not actually been able to make out in the mix when seeing the band perform), dresses in a full-on face mask and tonight in a priest's robes cuts a pretty mean figure. David hammers away on synth drums, and is the token 'normal' person of the band...almost making him stand out. Then there is The Baron of course, who lurks in the shadows, flinging Skittles into the audience. Coming on like Phil Mitchell in a pink wig, black dress and with a bunch of plastic bananas around his neck, the man terrifies me. I shall speak no more of him. Tonight the band's official go-go dancer and backing vocalist Sylvia is joined by new addition to the gang, Agent Blonde and the pair of them spend the evening prowling the stage, tying up Misty and shaking their pom poms at the crowd at every opportunity.
The band's sound is an interesting mix of electronica, industrial, disco and synth pop - with songs about 'Martians', 'Space Ships', 'Dead People' and 'Homicide' and a healthy dose of kitsch playfulness. There are tongues in cheeks here as Misty stalks the stage with a (hopefully fake...) pistol in hand shooting at the all too eager audience. There are also a few more gentler moments, when the music comes down a few notches from 'hyper-psycho' to a more measured melancholia, the contrast working nicely - although it must be said, that to this day I cannot quite understand why the band insist on performing their Karaoke version of the disco number 'I feel love', especially when they have a fair selection of their own compositions to choose from. Standout songs tonight are the grinding industrial hate anthem 'Flowers', the JuJu standard 'Sirius' and the debut single 'Electrotrash' which serves as the band's answer to the most recent hateful fad of the London music scene.
I have seen the band perform on a number of occasions, they have been very active on the London gig scene in 2003 and tonight was certainly the best I have seen them. Previous shows have been dogged with bad sound and grumpy engineers behind decrepit desks, so it was a nice change to see the band performing unhindered for once.
To date there have been no official releases, but there is a generous selection of songs available for download on the band's homepage. These recordings are yet to capture the band at their on-stage best and as such they remain as very much of a live phenomena, and to appreciate the full elegant lunacy of JuJu Babies I recommend attendance at one of their many London shows.
If they're not megastars in a year's time then there is no justice in the world.
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