(Photo by Sky/Dean Chalkley)
In the form of Oasis’ gargantuan reunion tour of last year, Pulp releasing their first studio album in nearly a quarter century, and Blur’s triumphant Wembley shows in the summer of 2023, recent years have ushered in something of Britpop rebirth. Suede, one of the founding fathers of said moment, appear – on the evidence of recent interviews at least – to eschew the love affair with 90s nostalgia and thrive instead in a constant pursuit of creativity. Some may find it surprising that last September’s Antidepressants was the London band’s fifth album in just twelve years.
Thus, as is the antithesis of Oasis’ appealing shameless submission to a purely 1990s setlist (save 2002’s ‘Little By Little’) during their Live ’25 comeback, songs from Suede’s last two albums comprise nearly half of tonight’s material. The show begins with a hattrick of tunes from Antidepressants. ‘Disintegrate’ utilises clanging, industrial guitars which pave the way for an instantly notable chorus; guitarist Richard Oakes’ richly chiming arpeggios propel ‘Dancing with the Europeans’ which sees animated lead singer Brett Anderson in one of many instances of standing atop the foldback monitors and geeing up the audience; ‘Antidepressants’ is more evidence of Suede’s modus operandi of aiming for large, euphoric choruses.
Anderson’s svelte frame and floppy fringe remain, his smart black shirt and skinny trousers sitting rather more comfortably around a 58 year old frame than should be possible. He first greets the crowd with “Welcome to Suede world” and, in teasing the first of the night’s 90s hits, suggests that “Bristol, you’re the lovers on the street, you’re the litter on the breeze.” It is, of course, ‘Trash’ that follows, Oakes’ iconically twisting guitar riff a glorious rush of melody. Career highlight ‘Animal Nitrate’ completes a knockout one-two punch of 90s favourites, a large swath of the audience mirroring Anderson’s pogoing tirelessly on the spot.
Employing – save a few tunes where Neil Codling downs his guitar in favour of a place at a keyboard – the classic rock n roll set up of two guitars, bass (played by Mat Osman, brother of TV presenter/novelist/giant, Richard) and original member Simon Gilbert’s drums, Suede sound lythe and robust, two virtues staunchly reflected in the antics of their frontman. Anderson swishes about his microphone cables ala Morrisey and leaps consistently from an onstage packing case. The skimming guitars and anxious urgency of ‘Personality Disorder’ has him take to his knees to deliver perhaps his most imploring of choruses. On multiple occasions, he ventures from the stage to sing eyeball to eyeball amidst besotted members of the audience.
With tonight being just the third gig in a sold out seventeen date UK tour, there are a couple of tweaks from the Folkstone and Portsmouth shows. This seems to throw Gilbert somewhat as the aborted staccato glam-stomp drum intro clearly isn’t meant for ‘Snowblind’. It is, in fact, the intended intro to next song ‘She’ which blends the electronic wail of Oakes’ guitar with haunting ‘Whoo-hoo’ backing vocals to devastating effect.
There are a run of songs which reflect how Anderson’s naturally poetic soul has combined with advancing age to deliver something ponderous and philosophical. His dedicating ‘Tribe’ – a completely new song – to “all the insatiable ones, the mad ones, the quiet ones, the beautiful ones, the wild ones,” appears to making an aspiring statement of universal humanity. During the relative sparseness of ‘June Rain’, the words of another Suede song “life is endless, life is a moment” appear on the screen behind the stage. Anderson then dedicates ‘She Still Leads Me On’ to “all the fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, families.” It’s title, rather than a lament of being led on in a manipulative sense, is actually a heartfelt ode to the continuing influence his late mother has in propelling him forward.
This all culminates with the power-balladry of ‘Life is Golden’ which he dedicates to his young son who is, coincidentally enough, sitting directly in front of me. Accompanied solely by Codling on keyboards, Anderson goes sans microphone for a later verse, and then gradually reintroduces the mic in tandem with the rising crescendo of Codling’s chords. It’s a powerful moment.
Offering a neat symmetry to the night’s opening, the set concludes with another hattrick, this time of 90s favourites. ‘So Young’ ends with Anderson stood on the foldback monitors once more while lassoing the microphone cable around his torso. ‘Metal Mickey’ combines the band’s obvious ear for a riveting chorus with opaque lyricism (“She sells hearts/she sells meat”). The formidable ‘Beautiful Ones’ is given extended treatment as Anderson leads an acapella clap-along of the song’s iconic ‘La, La, Lala, La, La, Laa’ refrain before brilliantly giving way to Oakes’ coruscating guitar intro. However, the revisiting of the same refrain at the end of the song is perhaps taking Suede’s best loved tune into precarious ‘Hey Jude’-esque terrain.
Returning for a single song encore – ‘The Only Way I Can Love You’ – Anderson declares “We are the anti-nostalgia band.” Suede have found a positive balance between integral 90s heroes and forward thinking artistic unit.
Scott Hammond
