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Video of the Moment #1309: Suede

By on Monday, 2nd September 2013 at 6:00 pm

Suede‘s next single ‘For the Strangers’ is out on the 21st of October, and here’s the promo video for it. Filmed by Ben Lankester at the band’s sold out London’s Alexandra Palace in March, the same month their album return ‘Bloodsports’ was released, you can gawk as Brett Anderson is down on his knees, singing to the faithful masses. Watch it below.

The same day that the single goes on sale, Suede will also be releasing ‘The Vinyl Collection’, the definitive box set containing all six of the band’s studio albums (‘Suede’, ‘Dog Man Star’, ‘Coming Up’, ‘Head Music’, ‘A New Morning’ and ‘Bloodsports’), plus a b-side compilation ‘Sci-Fi Lullabies’, all on vinyl. This will mark the first time that ‘A New Morning’ and ‘Sci-Fi Lullabies’ will be available on vinyl.



Video of the Moment #1218: Suede

By on Friday, 31st May 2013 at 6:00 pm

Suede have a new video out for ‘Hit Me’, which takes the term literally and lets it loose in a museum. Oh dear. I hope there aren’t too many drunk kids getting ideas from this… Brett Anderson hasn’t sounded better, though, I have to say. Anthemic Suede is back.

The band is on tour in the UK and Ireland in October; all the dates are listed below.


Saturday 26th October 2013 – Leeds Academy
Sunday 27th October 2013 – Glasgow Barrowlands
Monday 28th October 2013 – Dublin Olympia
Wednesday 26th October 2013 – Manchester Academy
Thursday 31st October 2013 – Birmingham Academy


A Retrospective on Suede (Part 2)

By on Tuesday, 9th April 2013 at 11:00 am

Missed part 1 of this amazing retrospective on Suede by our Martin? Right this way, folks.

Sixteen months after their gloriously successful debut, and by way of a taster for the second album, Suede released their career pinnacle: the faultless trifecta of ‘We Are the Pigs’, ‘Killing of a Flash Boy’ and ‘Whipsnade’. The portentiously-tolling minor-chord intro of ‘We Are The Pigs’ gives way to Brett Anderson in full, finely-fettled flow: flouncing around the soundscape, a figurehead for the dispossessed, disenchanted victims of urban decay, empathising, encouraging, exhorting a beautiful flash of direct action against the oppressors before the attraction of the crack pipe becomes once again irresistible.

Bernard Butler has by this point found the electric guitar incapable of fully expressing his musical ambitions: sections of the orchestra are called on one by one to amplify his concepts: strings sweep through the chorus, brass adds sandpaper edge to the breakdowns, neither of which can compete with Butler’s enormous wall-of-sound guitars – like being trapped in a lift with mirrors on all three sides, he manages to conjure a seemingly infinite number of guitar parts from one source, each in turn a little further away, distant but distinct. The rational brain knows there must be some end to it, but no matter how hard you listen, there’s still something else in the background. The B-sides are just as exhilarating: ‘Killing of A Flash Boy’ is simultaneously ribald and genuinely threatening: a seedy provincial holiday resort imagined, or perhaps documented, descending into vicious jealousy and violence:

Shake your fake tan through aerosol land and you’ll know
That you’ll suffer for your sex by the caravanettes, oh no!
That shitter with a pout won’t be putting it about no more
Oh shaking obscene like a killing machine here we go


This is the zenith of Anderson’s obsession with the twisted side of the humdrum British way of life: like a Martin Parr photograph with the lights out, familiar white working-class settings become arenas of disease and violence. Even though it’s caricatured and embellished, there’s a truth to Anderson’s lyrics that shift them into the realm of genuine social commentary: he’s saying, “this is what happens, this is how people feel and behave when there’s nothing better to do.” And there’s a glamour in the revulsion, an attraction in the dirt that he sees, and he wants us to see it, too.

A month later, in October 1994, ‘Dog Man Star’ was released. From the very first seconds, and perhaps to the slight disappointment of those hoping for ‘Suede’ mark II, it becomes apparent that the short, sharp, three minute arrangements of its predecessor are almost entirely absent: this is very much an orchestrated album, almost conceptual in its execution. There is a proper introduction, a rousing orchestral finale, and arguably a coherent narrative of love, sex, drugs and loss. The atmosphere is one of faded autumnal grandeur, of end-of-the-pier desolation; the soundtrack to a black-and-white film yet to be made. The film might take as its theme that of breakup, and breakdown, given the emotional strain and animosity running through the band at the time of recording.

The tension between Butler and Anderson was so high, neither of them could stand to be in the studio as the same time as the other. Bernard Butler’s increasingly erratic and demanding behaviour culminated in his departure before the album was even finished, giving rise to curious situations like the guitar part of ‘The Power’ being recreated note-for-note from the demo by a session guitarist. Despite, or perhaps because of its problematic gestation, ‘Dog Man Star’ contains many astonishing moments amongst its crumbling artifice: the peerless guitar solo in ‘We Are the Pigs’; the literal car crash of ‘Daddy’s Speeding’; the intertwining banshee howl of vocal and guitar in ‘This Hollywood Life’; Anderson’s falsetto crescendo in ‘The 2 of Us’: defining moments worthy of the high-concept glam-rock pantheon.

One surviving marker of Butler’s increasingly dominating personality is his insistence on length. Latterly-released long versions and demos reveal exactly the scope of Butler’s ambition – if it had been given free rein. The unedited version of ‘The Wild Ones’ is a case in point – the piece considered by the band themselves as the pinnacle of the Butler/Anderson partnership, would, if one of its co-writers had had his way, be no less than 7 minutes long with a tour-de-force instrumental at its heart. The truth is, the extended version is for completists only: the edit works better as a song. No matter how good Butler’s guitar shredding is, the song as a whole is too strong to be distracted by such fripperies. More suited to ego-driven over-indulgence is the extended version of ‘The Asphalt World’, which clocks in at an eye-watering 11-and-a-half minutes. This song represents every excess Suede had partaken of in the previous half-decade, made music. The 5 minutes of song proper serves as just an introduction; the almost-silent breakdown section seethes with threatened violence, sparks of filtered sound and rumblings of sub-bass stalk the background, looking for an excuse to jump from the shadows and reveal themselves in their vulgar glory. And an excuse arrives in Butler’s most audacious guitar solo yet put to tape. The unedited version reveals a scope of ambition cut from the initial release – hard-panned squalls of guitar pour forth from both sides, while a filthy, tremoloed lead part builds to a guilty, orgiastic climax. “Who does she love?”, indeed.

The truth is, if they had disbanded after the release of ‘The Wild Ones’, their last release of the Butler era, Suede would have had as unblemished a career as it’s possible to achieve in pop music – two albums and seven singles, and all arguably perfect. In a pleasingly circular way, their story would have been the perfect subject for a Suede song – a brief glimpse into an intense love affair, stubbed out in a whirlwind of drugs and bitter recrimination, with an absolutely superb soundtrack. But, astonishingly, their most successful years were still ahead of them.

Suede’s newest album ‘Bloodsports’ is available now.


A Retrospective on Suede (Part 1)

By on Friday, 22nd March 2013 at 11:00 am

On the 11th of May this year, anyone born on the day Suede released their debut single will be celebrating their 21st birthday. Widely credited as being one of the earliest and most influential practitioners of Britpop, in truth the Suede story is more complex and enigmatic than that, and the eve of adulthood of their debut release seems as good a time as any to revisit the Suede story. In this retrospective we reassess Suede’s catalogue, critically assessing how their music stands up to the cold light of hindsight, and how latest release ‘Bloodsports’ fits with the rest of their oeuvre.

In chronological debut single order: Blur (27/10/1990), Suede (23/05/1992), Pulp (27/11/1993), Oasis (23/04/1994). That quadruplet, give or take an Echobelly here or a Menswear there, made up the bands who brought to life the monster that was Britpop. Shaking the audience out of their shoegaze stupor, Britpop proved that guitars and songwriting could be sexy in a way that neither the loping stonerism of baggy, the chiming watercolour of shoegaze, nor the neanderthal bludgeoning of grunge could. Before long, it grew into a zeitgeist-defining cultural movement with its own fashions, haircuts, and even art, all soundtracked by a certain type of band.

Of course it wasn’t long before Britpop was disappearing into its own navel; the proliferation of Union Flag guitars and headline news rivalries turned what was once the saviour of British music into a tabloid-fuelled parody of itself. But there have rarely been finer places for a music fan to be than a small British record shop on a Saturday morning in summer 1994: an embarrassment of riches practically jumping off the shelves at you, each from a fresh, exciting British band.

Which Suede undoubtedly were. Although their first couple of efforts at the cusp of the decade were mediocre affairs – ‘Wonderful Sometimes’ is baggy nonsense, ‘Be My God’ a bit better, showing glimpses of Bernard Butler’s future guitarscapes – by 1992 the chrysalis had split open and Suede as we know them emerged with ‘The Drowners’. Which neatly summarised the band’s virtues, but, cleverly, was in no hurry to reveal them. It takes four bars before the floor toms finally give way to several layered, fizzy guitars; the band love the intro so much they repeat it again, finally unleashing Brett Anderson’s teasingly camp vocal well over half a minute in. The chorus is simultaneously dreamy and aggressive, and it all crescendos with a mountain of guitars and a singalong handclap as catchy as any pantomime finale. As debut singles go, there’s few finer examples.

Four months later, the more assertive ‘Metal Mickey’ was thrust upon an unsuspecting public, proving that the first single wasn’t just a fluke. Again, there’s loads of fuzzy guitars, all tonally different but with a unifying underlying backbone – my guess is that of a Gibson ES-335. The tempo is quicker, Anderson revealing for the first time lyrical themes he would return to again and again – that of night-lurkers out for mischief and sin, femme fatales more than eager to lead one astray, and curious, telling references to a shadowy father figure. The first chorus winds up around the minute mark, and more handclaps signal the whole sordid affair is over in three. This is perfect pop arrangement.

By the time ‘Animal Nitrate’ hit the shelves, it was becoming apparent that Suede were a superb singles band. And not just because they were good at picking the best songs from their albums. The B-sides were famously as good as anything they released on an album, and in some cases the equal of the A-sides. In any case, single purchasers were treated to great value throughout, and not just because of the two extra songs. The first four singles hang together as a collection of art objects, with thematically consistent artwork and typography, proudly proclaiming their allegiance to the sadly defunct Nude records. The four artifacts demonstrate an admirable sense of direction, of a band who aspired to express themselves in something more than just their music; that their physical output looks and feels intuitively “Suede” is testament to their attention to detail and ability to define their sense of self, attributes which would never leave them.

Whichever way one looks at it, ‘Suede’ by Suede is an astonishing album. Commercially, it debuted at the top of the UK charts as the fastest-selling debut album in history, won the Mercury music prize, and remains the band’s biggest selling album in America. Artistically, it’s the sound of two room-size egos finding succour, trusting the other to deliver the bombast they themselves aspire to, safe in the knowledge that neither could overstep – there are no boundaries. Both Anderson and Butler deliver their most concise work, Anderson particularly excelling in the depth of his lyrics, delivering a consistency which was to elude him at times in the future. Single lines such as “In the car he couldn’t afford they found his made up name on her ankle chain” from ‘She’s Not Dead’ perfectly express the mood he was attempting to capture – details of lives lived perpetually on the periphery; of fleeting pleasures snatched between grey skies and the dole queue. Whether or not Anderson truly lived the life he strived so hard to reproduce in song is debatable – 1980s Haywards Heath appears the very epitome of middle class suburban banality – although his subsequent move to London qualifies him at the very least as a first-hand observer. There’s proper poetry here too, in the skewed feminism of ‘Breakdown’:

Where still life bleeds the concrete white
Where the tame star limps an endless mile
Where the canine in the A-line stole your time
You can only go so far
For womankind

Although such eloquence is somewhat brought back down to Earth by the punchline “does he only come in a Volvo?”. Final single ‘So Young’ serves as a perfect summary of the previous three singles with its ambiguous drug references and tireless electric guitars; tantalisingly, its more considered arrangement featuring acoustic guitar, piano and organ hints at the wider sound which was to come.


MP3 of the Day #744: Suede

By on Monday, 18th March 2013 at 10:00 am

Suede release their latest album ‘Bloodsports’ today, and they are offering up this live version of ‘Filmstar’ from their recent show at the Camden Barfly as a free mp3. Listen to and grab it for your very own below.


Video of the Moment #1126: Suede

By on Friday, 15th February 2013 at 6:00 pm

On Monday, Suede rang in BBC 6music’s Live at Maida Vale Week with a rousing set featuring new tracks from their forthcoming album ‘Bloodsports’ and some old favourites as well. You can catch up on the event by viewing clips and photos here, listening to the audio from the iPlayer as usual until Monday morning, and you can use the BBC red button on your telly for further coverage.

Last month Martin reviewed the new Suede single ‘Barriers’; now, here is the promo video for ‘It Starts and Ends with You’, with the band swinging and shaking it like you’d expect at their age. Watch it below.



About Us

There Goes The Fear is where we tell you about the latest music, gigs, and tours we love and think you should too.

We love music that has its heart on its sleeve, tells a story, swims around our head all day or makes us dance like no-one's watching.

TGTF was edited by Mary Chang, based in Washington, DC.

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