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.