Strawberry Switchblade
From August 2020
This green telephone exchange box is at the end of our street; I probably walk or cycle past it half a dozen times a week. Although not mentioned by Charles J. Smith in his definitive History of South Edinburgh, I think the stencilled ‘29’ has been there for a while. But the sticker featuring a heavenward gazing woman is a recent addition to the flora and fauna of our neighbourhood.
My first thought was that the sticker depicted Siouxsie Sioux of Siouxsie and the Banshees fame. But on closer inspection I think it is more likely to be Rose McDowall or Jill Bryson (but not both) from Strawberry Switchblade. I’m edging towards it being Rose McDowall but who knows?
Strawberry Switchblade were a difficult to categorise band from Glasgow whose 15 minutes of fame fell during the mid-1980s. On the musical spectrum they were somewhere between Bananarama and The Smiths, the sugar coated pop of the former combined with the lyrical bleakness of the latter. "You let her go / She does not want to be with you / She told me so / She does not know what to do”, that sort of thing. Despite the hair ribbons and polka-dot dressess there was a clue in the second part of the band’s name.
I saw Strawberry Switchblade at Coasters night club in Edinburgh’s edgy Tollcross district. It must have been late 1984 / early 1985 around the time of their biggest hit ’Since Yesterday’. Of the evening I can remember absolutely nothing. Whether it was better or worse than other gigs at Coasters that I attended - Culture Club (1982) or the personal appearance of Dr Clive Gibbons out of Australian soap opera Neighbours (1986) - it's impossible now to say. Indeed 34 years on, why I went to see Clive Gibbons is a mystery. Peer pressure probably. Or strong drink, one or the other or both. He wasn't even a real doctor.
McDowall and Bryson recorded only one album and while it’s a bit drum machine heavy, there’s some really lovely stuff there. 'Sitting in my front room / On a rainy afternoon / My mind turns to think of you / And how I might see you soon’ - pure 80s schmaltz but then I’m a big fan of pure 80s schmaltz.