Possibly Britain's coolest band, Suede have just released their fourth album, the wonderful Head Music. To promote it they launched themselves on a whirlwind tour of European countries and faced the world's press. We went along to their fanclub-only London show and their international press conference to watch the band at work and then sat down in a hotel room in Paris to find out what he makes of the press attention, why he doesn't feel famous and to tell us all about his new album.
words: William Luff. photos: Philippe Mazzoni
Saturday 26th March. After similar events in Manchester and Glasgow the Suede bandwagon rock'n'rolls into town. As part of their promotional campaign for Head Music Suede have been playing fanclub-only shows and talking to the media in Britain before heading out to Europe. However the London date is a little different. Gathered in the sunless confines of the LA2 are journalists from all over the world: Hong Kong, Japan, France, Germany, Italy, Finland and probably Outer Mongolia. They are all here to ask Suede a barrage of questions and the band arrive looking perky and willing to answer, Silence. It seems that no one has actually thought of a question. The band look uncomfortable. Eventually someone asks about long departed guitarist Bernard Butler. The band sigh. There's a question about heroin. The band laugh. God alone knows what these jurnos are going to write when they get back to wherever they're from.
After 20 torturous minutes Suede face the cameras and disappear. Later they take to the stage and tear through tracks from the new album, cranking up the energy for 'Electricity' and 'Elephant Man' but revelling in some of the greatest, moodiest ballads they've written. Both 'He's Gone' and 'Indian Strings' could melt the hardest heart. The crowd appreciate every star spangled minute and the journos all clamber excitedly into the VIP coaches to be ferried to the aftershow party. They loved the gig but after the press conference, think the band are arrogant. Of course when Brett and co. arrive later, they fawn obligingly. Brett smiles wearily. Meeting people is easy?
Tuesday 30th March. Brett is ensconced in a Parisian hotel room with guitarist Richard Oakes, answering the same questions in every interview. Mat Osman, the obigatory tall bassist is in the bardownstair talking to a technical magazine. Neil Codling, the band's icy cool keyboardist and Simon Gilbert the drummer have wisely stayed at home. It's getting late and the band have half an hour before they have to leave to catch a plane to Italy and do it all over again. Charlie, their manager is fretting over the schedule and wondering wheter to pack up Brett's belongings while we speak to him. Brett however is un-concerned. With a hearty handshake he welcomes us in, pleased to see a fellow Englishman. Richard however, who we bump into in the lift gives a knowing wink and says, "Ah, you're English, better watch what I say." Cheeky bugger.
Brett's image as a haughty, arrogant pop star is so far from the truth you're initially thrown by how friendly he is. He chats about holidays in Barbados, how he prefers LA to New York, the fact he's a vegetarian but loves seafood and how, although he loves London his sister who lives in Devon hates it. He tells us that he listens to Prince, Tricky, Asian Dub Foundation and Air, loves art galleries and films, and eats out in restaurants, not because he can't cook but because "I prefer to go out and get sloshed!" Brett is patently not the moody, difficult man you assume he could be. So is this press lark a pain in the arse then? "I don't take it seriously," he chuckles. "I try and enjoy it but that press conference in London was a bit strange. People just think they'll take notes from what everyone else is saying. I've walked out of press conferences after five minutes before. I mean, I'm not gonna sit there like a lemon. But the problem is then they write that we're arsey and we're not at all. If someone has the respect to actually talk to us and not just ask what the tour dates are... It's like, ask the fucking press officer!" So do you enjoy talking about yourself? Is it therapeutic?
"Yeah, to a degree. But I'm a bit braindead now to be honest cos I've been doing it all day and you get a kind of dizziness where you realise you're just repeating exactly the same sentence from the last interview. But I'm much more honest than I used to be. I used to lie all the time cos I'd get bored but then people take it so seriously. Six years later you have people saying (foreign accent) 'You said zis' and I'm like, Oh for fuck's sake!" Brett laughs disarmingly and hunts around for his lighter. He is an absolute unselfconscious fidgeter, twisting his track suit top as he talks or mussing his hair, never far frmo a smile and always thoughtful about his answers. A true star in other words; he has no need for self dramatisation or lies anymore as his very presence speaks for itself. But he's never in the gossip columns, never a tired face about town. Doesn't he revel in his fame?
"Not really. I don't see fame as a particularly attractive thing in itself. Who's famous? Anthea Turner. Why? Cos you see her face a lot. It's pointless. Fame is just a symptom of your career if you're successful in music. I don't even think about it. I mean, I go out clubbing quite a bit and I've got a good group of friends but I don't hang out at the Meat Bar. I've been to the Groucho a couple of times but it's not my scene. There's certain people on the social scene that are just always there. These sad people that always wave 'hello' and you're like 'Oh piss off,' ha ha."
So you didn't resent when Neil stealing the spotlight when he joined?
"No it was great. He takes it all with a pinch of salt. It's a strange thing with Neil because he has this image of being a style icon but he's the most technical musician out of all of us. You go round to his flat and from floor to ceiling it's covered in special effects units!"
Neil's presence is all over Head Music, along with new producer Steve Osbourne. Suede have moved away from the guitar pop of yesteryear and discovered an alien, electronic landscape that suits them even more. Brett sees it as a purely natural move. "Yeah, it's evolution. But I didn't want to turn my back on Suede's past. I'm not embarrassed about what we've done. I think Blur did that, they realised they were a cartoon band that everyone thought was a joke and all of a sudden they tried to become 'authentic'. And that movement doesn't appeal to me. I think if you're doing what you believe in, it should be apparent in the music."
There's no doubt that Head Music is a Suede record, especially as Brett is still in love the same imagery as ever. It's all neon lights and starcrossed lovers, suburban boys and suburbans girls in Suede World. "Oh yeah," Brett laughs, "Suede World! That's exactly it. But I don't attach huge meaning to the words. They're used for their sound. People always think I'm a self conscious lyricist and there are lyrics that I have really thought about and consciously refined but a lot of it is instinctive."
The line "She lives in a house and she's stupid as a mouse," is pushing it a bit though.
"Ha ha, yeah. But that doesn't mean it's not a great lyric just cos it's throwaway or even childish. Critics always want lyrics to be litteral, or to pin them on other people. They're desperate for me to say, 'This is a song about Justine' (Frischmann, Elastica lead singer, Brett's old girlfriend and ex Suede member who left him for Damon Albarn) when it isn't. You write a song and it's about a hundred other things."
Fortunately, Brett doesn't give a monkeys about critics misinterpreting his lyrics. However, he does get frustrated at the piegonholing that goes on in the music industry.
"That's the way they sell it now," he says resignedly. "It happens all the time in America. We had success out there with the first record but we got fucked over because we had to change our name to The London Suede (snorts with derision). That was a real shitter and we don't fit into one of their limited categories. We straddle barriers and definitions, it's pop music with an edge and they can't cope with that." So is international success important? "You can't get too obsessed with it. It's more important to prove longevity. I still want to be making music in 10 year's time."
Would that be within the confines of Suede? You don't feel a budding solo artist ready to emerge?
Brett looks amused. "No. There are no confines in Suede. If I want to make a solo album then that's probably how the next Suede album would turn out. You know, we're all happy. We all get on pretty well. We have barneys like everyone else but nothing major." And it's true. Spending time in Suede World you realise how close and comfortable the band are with eachother. They're a gang, them against the world and they've always been on the winning side. Lucky bastards. The French press officers are scurrying round trying to hurry Brett, warning that the airport is some distance away. The manager looks anxiously at his watch. Brett gets up, stretches and grins. "Off to sunny Italia and do it again. See you back in London," he says and shakes my hand once more. Yep, meeting people IS easy.