Monday, July 28, 1997
London Suede returns to U.S. with new album
MUSIC:
Rock group takes another shot at success after lukewarm
responseBy Mike Prevatt
Daily Bruin Senior Staff
Four years ago, a band came up on American shores poised to
conquer the music charts. Led by the charismatic Brett Anderson,
Suede had already rocketed to multiplatinum success in Europe with
their Mercury Prize-winning self-titled debut album.
Once on U.S. soil, though they were hailed as "the next Smiths"
by many critics, they barely cracked alternative radio with a
modest hit titled "Metal Mickey." The band was also forced to
change its name to the London Suede due to copyright laws. Since
then, America has given (the London) Suede the cold shoulder.
Now, Suede has given us fickle Yanks another chance, God bless
them.
Suede’s endeavors this time around include a recently completed
and sold- out U.S. tour in support of the American release, "Coming
Up," their critically acclaimed fourth album. The American version
of the album includes a bonus second disc of live material,
in-studio footage and music videos on CD-ROM (something the British
aren’t so lucky to have).
In addition, the video for their first single, "Trash," recently
debuted on the M2 (the fantastic MTV spin-off we don’t get yet),
and is highlighted on the soundtrack of Gregg Araki’s latest movie,
"Nowhere."
Is this all for the huge cult of fans that gather in America’s
indie clubs, or has Suede refused to give up on storming America
like other British bands (i.e. Oasis, Prodigy, Blur and Bush)?
"There’s something about our sound that doesn’t sit well with
American radio," says singer Anderson.
"The kinds of records that get played to death on American radio
are these things with sonic rhythms and driving music," Anderson
continues. "Music you can imagine driving down the road to. And if
there is driving music in Suede’s music, it’s a different sort of
driving music."
Suede’s unmatched sound comes from a mixture of David
Bowie-esque glam, rock ‘n’ roll that sounds a bit like T-Rex and
similar ’70s bands, and a hint of gothic pop that makes their
ballads hauntingly lush and their up-tempo songs dark and
melancholy.
But even Bowie, who garners much respect in the States, hasn’t
sold the amount of records expected of him. Does this give Anderson
and company a complex?
"I don’t have an ego problem with it," Anderson says. "It’s
weird because America is the biggest single market in the world, in
terms of countries. And, we sell more records in Italy than we do
here. It’s bizarre. We’ve done 100,000 in fucking Denmark and
they’ve got a population of, what, 4 million?!"
"I tell you what, it’s nice walking down the street and not
getting permanently fucking hassled. It’s a relief."
Going unrecognized is not something new to Suede. Regarding
Suede’s appearance at the first KROQ Weenie Roast back in 1994,
drummer Simon Gilbert recalls, "I remember the two fans that were
watching us that day!"
KROQ was one of the first stations to play Suede in the early
1990s. Nowadays, Suede is really only heard on KROQ during Rodney
Bingeheimer’s midnight show on Sunday nights, not getting nearly as
much airplay as they used to.
This change might have bothered Anderson early on, but he has
reprioritized what he considers important.
"When you first start, you get sort of obsessed with how big you
are and stuff like that," Anderson explains. "You sort of learn
what’s the most important thing after all. Music has always been
the most important thing that’s driven the band. You’re as big as
you are, y’know what I mean?"
Music also seems to be the driving factor in Anderson’s
energetic and passionate live performances, which transform crowds
into screaming fanatics.
"It’s the songs, purely the songs," says Anderson. "I can’t get
emotional about songs I really don’t feel for."
But Anderson reveals that even rock stars can lose their
concentration on stage.
"Very occasionally something goes through my head like, y’know,
start thinking about toast or something like that. But that’s
pretty occasional. My cat sometimes wanders through my head."
Anderson’s most recent opportunity for random thoughts was
during their tour promoting "Coming Up," which marks the arrival of
new guitarist Richard Oakes. Oakes’ replacement of Bernard Butler
in 1994 caused a media sensation in the U.K. Keyboardist Neil
Codling also makes his debut on this record.
"Well, the average age has gone down. That’s always a good
sign!" quips Gilbert about the shifting of band members.
"I think the musicianship in the band has improved since they’ve
come into the band," Anderson says. "Neither of them has this thing
about doing ‘their thing.’ Like Neil will come up with something,
then Richard will, and they both egg each other on and have this
competition with each other which is good, y’know? It’s healthy to
have competition within the band."
Competitive spirit is not all that Suede uses while writing
songs. The band takes a spontaneous approach to making music while
in the studio.
"I don’t believe anyone goes into a studio with a kind of
predetermined idea of exactly how the album’s gonna be because
that’s just nonsense," Anderson says. "You just go into it and make
a record. With ‘Coming Up’ it was just that. It was us getting back
in the studio and getting back to playing as a band. It was a
natural thing."
Anderson has always been the natural main songwriter in the
band, whether teaming up with Butler in the earlier days, or Oakes
for the new album.
"I do love writing," Anderson admits. "It’s a strange thing
’cause it’s so frustrating and can be so dry and barren. But that’s
why when you get a breakthrough it makes it so sweet and that’s
such a brilliant thing. I can spend weeks and months banging my
head against the wall thinking, ‘I can’t write a fucking note,’ and
then all of a sudden I’ll come up with something I love and it will
be great."
Some bands rely on inspiration for their direction in the
studio. With Suede, it’s not so much reliance, but keeping their
ears open for anything good.
"I’m kind of like a devourer of music," Anderson says. "I sort
of take the bits I want and suck the blood out and spit them out. I
do sort of like ‘electronic music,’ like Kraftwerk, stuff like
that."
Suede is an outsider to the now dead "Britpop" scene that
dominated the U.K. and Europe from late ’94 through early ’96.
Their second release, "Dog Man Star," had finally left the charts
and Suede disappeared for a while.
While they were gone, bouncy pop bands like Blur, Oasis and Pulp
took England by storm, along with many other small, independent
bands like Gene, the Bluetones and Cast.
"Yeah, we missed out on it," says Gilbert. "When we first
started, it wasn’t around and then we went away and it happened
that year, or two years, whatever it was. Then we came back and
it’s all finished!"
Unlike Blur and Oasis, Suede does not see these other bands as
competition. Recall that in 1995, a bloody, media-induced feud
broke out between the two British giants.
"There’s a lot of bands in the British music scene and you can
replace them with each other," says Anderson. "I think we’re quite
unique in a way, without sounding conceited. I don’t particularly
think we’re in competition with anyone else."
With that in mind, Suede continues to do what they’ve always
been doing, regardless of how big or small they are in various
parts of the world.
"I don’t think there’s anyone that can do what we do," Anderson
says. "I think there’s always a place for Suede because we occupy a
space that no one else occupies."
Renaud Montfourny
London Suede members minus Neil Codling (left to right) Mat
Osman, new drummer Richard Oakes, Simon Gilbert and Brett
Anderson.