One of the original darlings of the indie scene in the early 90s. Suede have undergone a number of changes to their line-up since then, whilst still keeping the sound that made them undeniably Suede. An early landing pad for singer Justine Frischman (later of Elastica), not forgetting original guitarist Bernard Butler. Having made something of themselves with the band, Anderson and Butler teamed up again with The Tears in 2004, work that was suggested was penned by Butler for a Suede project. Some 18 years on, the Suede we know have released their latest project, Autofiction for BMG. To anyone who might suggest that in 2022, Suede are no longer relevant, my answer to this is to take a listen to this album.
It starts with ’She Still Leads Me On’, a song filled with the passion of a younger man. This singer, now in his mid-50s, sings for his supper and shows just how it should be done. In places his voice cracks, as he lets out the emotion once heard so differently on their debut single ‘The Drowners’. As I’m taken through this these emotions I come across ‘Personality Disorder’, where I walk with the singer, as he reads passages of the verse, “And our lives too, will pass and fade like this moment. Our clothes are like an anthem of sorrow and the words we use are like future ghosts…” Just take the time to absorb those words. When into the chorus, its chaotic instrumentation echoes the song’s title, but still has the ability to hold the listener’s attention. The single ’15 Again’ follows, with Brett perhaps lamenting his younger days, although it soon becomes clear that this song is for all of us. He sings “…and people think they know how you feel. 15 again, oh what a wasted life, we are still in our hearts…”. Rather than the candy floss passages of earlier years, this is solid and more sinister in its outlook, but if Brett is right, I think most of us must fall into this category.
I think what it is about any Suede album, is that Anderson’s storytelling is truly compelling and as we arrive at track 5, ’That Boy On The Stage’ it could almost be an autobiographical telling. Brett sings “…that boy on the stage, when he can’t control it…”, the moment is filled with disjointed rhythm and augmented chords, but it just works and gloriously so. As we arrive at its close, so many questions are left unanswered, but a key change is offered as the steady ‘Black Ice’ is brought into the headlights. I can picture Brett, sitting at the piano for this one, as calm descends on proceedings. The track listing reminds us we are now at the album’s mid-point and the only way now is home. Matt Osman’s gloriously heavy bass line leads his front man across no-man’s-land, with Simon Gilbert sounding the warning drum. At 2’45” Brett’s angst-ridden vocal screeches out above all else, until ’Shadow Self’ comes into sight. Brett sets the stage, taking on the role of the narrator, Bowie-like, that “…I don’t want nobody, dancing with my shadow self…”. At this point, they strip the instrumentation down, the rhythm containing that solid timing we have become accustomed to throughout this album. When this reduces, I can hear an ethereal quality in the backing, one that wraps the listener in its warm blanket.
‘It’s Always The Quiet Ones’ brings this ethereal quality down to earth, literally, a song in which the subject of abuse is raised. I had been riding high until I’d turned the page. Brett narrates “… don’t show that you’re hurt, you won’t be the first, to hide the bruises, they’re under your shirt…”. And suddenly it all becomes real, this is something that happens daily and Anderson has made the issue centre stage. A new respect has grown for these darlings who once courted the media, before Britpop drew their attention. Anything else is just going to be an anticlimax, isn’t it? As another touching moment is provided, Anderson asks ‘What am I Without You?’, a heartfelt number, but I’m left wrung out of emotion by ‘its predecessor. Here we find another solid bass line running through the track, and as the chorus comes in “…what am I without you…”, Anderson screams emotion and I realise that perhaps I’m not the only one.
This album has been a journey, with the emotional high point coming at the end of the album. I ask, had the songwriters chosen that we take this ride with them, making it more than just a throwaway tome? Leaving the listener dealing with those same emotions they had done on the album’s production. In my own way having lived this album, I decided this to be the case, as ‘Turn off Your Brain and Yell’, is offered. The epitome of a final track, that will help wrap up those emotions and just yell. This is an end-of-performance number that is full-bodied and will scream, SUEDE. And so as their ninth album plays out, it seems only fitting that the jury should decree a rating of…
