Strawberry Switchblade - Strawberry Switchblade

 

   Strawberry Switchblade is a band I hold very close to me. Since discovering them a few years ago, I have been utterly fascinated with the duo and their cult following, which is seemingly nonexistent outside of the UK and, strangely, Japan. I own a copy of the only vinyl pressing of their only studio album, printed on cardboard stock and still in the protective plastic sleeve it came shipped from Germany in. The band occupies a strange but enticing niche, somewhere between traditional goth and cutesy rococo fashion, making melodies so saccharine they can rot your teeth through the headphones.

Rose McDowall and Jill Bryson met each other in the miniscule world that was Glasgow’s punk scene in the late 70s. Both were promising young creatives, with Jill going to art school to earn her bachelor’s and Rose playing in a local band called the Poems. The two became known around Glasgow for their glamorous fashion, a key characteristic of the band’s brand. They would sport polka dotted dresses with long, flowing ribbons hanging from their long, tangly hair while adorning thick eyeliner and bold solid colored lipstick. The two interweaved gothic and twee fashion seamlessly, a talent that would shine through in their music. Strawberry Switchblade was formed in 1980 as a conventional jangle pop group, with both Rose and Jill on guitar along with the addition of Janis Goodlit on bass and Carol McGowan on drums. Eventually the two extra members fell away, leaving only Rose and Jill. 

The two recorded the band’s first single “Trees and Flowers” in 1983 after gaining some traction from an appearance on the legendary John Peel’s radio show. The song is beautifully woeful, with wistful oboe interludes and dirge lyrics about Jill’s struggle with agoraphobia: “I get so frightened / No one else seems frightened, only me”. The song is not as nearly synth reliant as their full length studio effort would be, but the vocal melodies and melancholic writing are always as they will be.

Sessions for the full length album began the following year, with the band releasing an EP before its release, all of which would wind up on the final product. Strawberry Switchblade’s efforts came to a culmination in April of 1985, with the release of the duo’s eponymous debut album. The album was unfortunately not as highly received as hoped in its native UK, but gained massive popularity overseas in Japan. Over the years, the group has built a strong cult fandom across the world, despite only releasing a few singles following their first and only album.

Strawberry Switchblade is a truly one-of-a-kind album. Just from the cover art alone, you are immediately struck by the flamboyant and unique fashion of Jill and Rose, embroidered along the borders with a hypnotic, almost pulsating pattern. Inside the sleeve is one of the most heartfelt love letters to the synthesizer, maximizing its potential to the fullest capacity. The duo showcases their versatility with an album album of equally bounces between bubbly pop tunes and deep, brooding ballads of loss and turmoil.

Jill and Rose’s take on synthpop and new wave was vastly different from every one of their contemporaries. Despite being an overtly pop group on the outside, Strawberry Switchblade is surprisingly lacking in anything remotely radio friendly. What few upbeat songs they have in the album is muddied by deceivingly hidden lyrics of depression and suicide. Chart topping synth bands like Tears for Fears, Soft Cell, a-ha, and New Order had a nearly uniform positive attitude and entire catalogs about love. Strawberry Switchblade came into the genre from a gothic point of view, veering their music in a macabre direction. 

The group exceeds in hiding their true intentions behind a facade of pleasant melodies and quirky synth beeps. The album’s opener “Since Yesterday” has a seemingly innocent melody with industry standard lyrics of admiration intertwining oddly disturbing stanzas, with precious “la la las” being thrown in between choruses of contemplating suicide. “Let Her Go” is seemingly a spiritual successor to “Since Yesterday” in both sound and theme. Whereas “Since Yesterday” was about the immediate mental damage following a breakup, “Let Her Go” is about the lingering effects of moving on, all underneath a singalong tune with an electric guitar solo. “Secrets” is a playful ode to 80s radio pop, with a teasing narrator and bright keys. 

Slower songs on the record are where Strawberry Switchblade excels at capturing your emotions. These tracks highlight the group’s tendency for echoing drum beats and sinister underlying soundscapes. “Go Away” is probably the most evoking song on the album, featuring a sinister music box overlaying the chorus, hidden between stabbing piano strokes and pale whispers in the verse. Like washing waves crash against the rocks and cliffs, “Go Away” plays like a looming fog hanging over your head, with whisps of the duo’s lush vocals blowing at your face. And just like fog, the song vanishes suddenly into the air, leaving you wondering where it went. Similarly, “10 James Orr Street” brings an uncertain eerieness that is sandwiched in between two upbeat tracks. The track opens with an echo, a whisper of what once was a note, followed closely by another ghostly apparition. An acoustic guitar appears, briefly replacing the synth as the main instrument, only for a song. “A tear stained pillow doesn’t seem to help me / I can’t make you change your mind”: words of a person afraid of moving on, but unable to stay where they are. Trumpets parade the song to a slow but sure end. Not only of the song, but of the A side of the record. 

Ballads are a rarer structure of song, but still found scattered across the album. “Who Knows What Love Is?” has a jazzy, lounge feel to it, and is one of the few examples of a true love song, or as close as this band gets. Really it’s a song of longing, hoping to see a lover soon, the feeling of being unable to resist their thought. 

The final send off of the album is the wrenching beauty of “Being Cold”, which truly relishes in the cheese of 80s pop. String and woodwinds decorate the song, sending Rose’s vocals to a land among the clouds, where soap operas and teenage melodramas play out in vivid color. Violins clash and mix like leaves in the air, with one lone clarinet left to narrate the imposing battle. 

After the release of their album, Jill and Rose’s partnership began to splinter. Only a few songs were recorded and released before the group disbanded permanently only a year after their major debut. In the years following the breakup, Rose went on to become a major figure in the industrial and neofolk scene, playing with groups like Current 93 and Nurse with Wound. Jill lived a life of privacy, opting to settle in her home out in the countryside of Scotland. 

Blind optimism is what drives us. Pushing forward despite what came before in the face of adversity is what makes the human spirit so special. To me that’s what Strawberry Switchblade’s music represents. Sure, it’s bleak now. You can’t see past your own feet. But things change, time passes. One day you’ll be where you thought you’d never be. It gives me comfort.