Suede

(Translated from my original Italian text by ChatGPT and Piero Scaruffi)

Suede (marketed as London Suede in the USA) were among the leading acts of 1990s Brit-pop, thanks to their catchy refrains and arrangements that highlighted their melodic skills. Bernard Butler (guitars and piano) was the brains of the group, while the photogenic singer Brett Anderson was its public image.

Partly due to the relatively stripped-down sound free of embellishments, and partly due to the singer�s intense, theatrical Bowie-esque crooning, their early releases justified the excitement: Drowners (their first single, May 1992) is a piece of old glam rock arranged majestically, with an ethereal chorus soaring over a carousel of psychedelic keyboards and a powerful Faces-style soul-rock. A steady guitar riff drives the circular melody of Metal Mickey (October), in which Anderson masterfully demonstrates how to mine the most catchy notes from the octaves; the enchanting melody of Animal Nitrate (February 1993) hiccups over T. Rex-style boogie from the synthesizer. Nothing unheard of in rock history, but all delivered with near-religious pathos.

Suede (Columbia, 1993), for which the British media had built up frantic anticipation, is a learned encyclopedia of melodramatic tricks, often approaching progressive-rock arrangements, with hints of Genesis and Moody Blues woven in. Moreover, the songs feature lyrics saturated with references to the singer�s touted bisexuality, heroin, sodomy, and suicide, following a formula that places the music in a bestial world contrasting (or wonderfully complementing) the singer�s sweet, innocent face. Compared to the singles, the glam-rock derivation is more evident (also due to the lack of memorable melodies): So Young borrows from Ziggy Stardust, the long ballad on the B-side Dolly borrows from Marc Bolan, Pantomime Horse crumbles in its own pathos, and Breakdown hints at romantic sonata piano notes. Even the subsequent single Stay Together (1994) imitates David Bowie. Arrangements became increasingly elaborate.

Butler�s melodramatic emphasis is unstoppable on Dog Man Star (Nude, 1994). But the arrangements are also pushed to excess. The result is that Suede seem to propose a bridge between progressive rock and symphonic rock, between Genesis and Jim Steinman, always filtered through glam rock (We Are The Pigs, far too heroic and hysterically shrieked; New Generation recited at attention in martial rhythm as in theatrical vaudeville; the operatic aria of Black Or Blue). The pianistically dramatic, expressionist Daddy�s Speeding and the decadently overtones-laden Two Of Us repeat Ziggy Stardust tropes for the thousandth time, while the long The Asphalt World recalls early Genesis. Experiments multiply: the twisted, cyclic riffs of Heroine, the roaring distortion of This Hollywood Life, the symphonic apotheosis of Still Life. While increasingly cloying melodies endlessly repeat an artifice that could only last a single, the arrangements turn that artifice into a meta-genre. Anderson�s frantic gesticulations almost parody Bowie, with the music keeping pace.

Butler, the true genius of the early singles, left the group and recorded a soul-rock album with singer David McAlmont, The Sound Of (Virgin, 1995).

Coming Up (Nude, 1996), with the new, very young guitarist Richard Oakes, does not change the situation. Anderson remains paranoidly subservient to David Bowie: Trash echoes the approach and orchestration of Space Oddities, Filmstar is practically an homage to the Ziggy Stardust era, Beautiful Ones copies the score of Young Americans, and so on. The song attempting to revive the glory of Metal Mickey is rather Starcrazy.
Butler�s absence is felt acutely. Anderson tries to carve out a new style and personality for the band with the piano ballad By The Sea and the expressionist recital of Picnic By The Motorway, but, surprisingly, ends up parodying Bowie at his most sentimental.

Sci-Fi Lullabies (Columbia, 1997) is simply a compilation of the B-sides of their singles (28 in total), many with the then-guitarist Bernard Butler. It includes tracks often performed live, such as My Insatiable One, Killing of a Flashboy, and especially My Dark Star. Overall, however, this collection demonstrates the band�s weakness outside those two fortunate singles.

Suede have always been secondary epigones of classic glam rock. They managed a couple of lucky singles, but outside those tracks, their albums were pure titles without content.

Despite all the limits of a fanatically hyped operation, Suede marked a genuine step forward for British pop music, which had stagnated for years since The Smiths. For a few days, their songs were indeed catchier than those of their master, Bowie.