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issue 1 june 2004

according to sheryl garratt, editor of the face, “they came at a time when the music press were desperate for something to write about, so they smothered them with praise. the problem for me is that i’ve seen it all before. but then suede are not aimed at me. they’re aimed at 19- and 20-year olds, who haven’t. brett’s feyness was certainly appealing to those who’d never experienced david bowie.”

suede’s music is certainly distinctive, if a little derivative. brittle, overwrought guitar pop, it demands attention. as does anderson – unquestionably the group’s leader – who employs the same strident mockney tones used in the past by the likes of anthony newley, bowie and cockney rebel’s steve harley. the sound of suede is the sound of bedroom doors being slammed, and all the youthful market-town angst that goes with it. this is rock which is intended to mean more than life itself, to teenagers, anyway – music to get you through adolescence, however arch and mannered it might be (typical song titles: so young, breakdown, sleeping pills, the next life etc). trying to find something which sounds uncontrived or unaffected in suede’s songs is like trying to find an afro-american in a woody allen film. yet the fact that they sound insincere does not necessarily mean they are.

“it’ll sound pretentious if i try and describe it,” says anderson, “but suede for me is something very young and beautiful and vital. almost sort of silver. that’s the colour i always think of, silver, something very shiny. our music is the kind of music that should be listened to by one person in front of their stereo. it’s not a gang thing at all.