Swayed? Swoyed? Swede?

Oh no! It was always said swed. To rhyme with head. The posh folk rhymed it with played. “Swayed.” Showing off their general sophistication or something. London-centric media types such as yer Lamacqs rhymed it with played as well, but spoken like a yoof TV presenter it always came out as swoyed, innit? I am of course referring to Brett ‘n Bernard ‘n co’s Suede, hip young gunslingers (1992) who, with slinky, snake-thin Ziggy guitars and target-market grabbing daft quotes about being bisexuals who’ve never had homosexual experiences, were all the rage in those early 90s.

You’ll know the story. Justine from Elastica. Damon from Blur. Lovebites on the arse. In the olden days, middle class twats would have a duel, a stand-off with pistols at dawn. May the best man win and all that. Brett and Damon swung punches via well-chosen quotes in the NME and Melody Maker. Tough as nails I don’t think. A heavy air of pretentiousness hung over Suede with everything they did. Bernard seemed alright. So did the drummer. But that big, lanky, girly-looking dude, preening himself on the bass got me all annoyed just looking at him. And Brett thought he was intellectual. Cultured. Arty. Russian literature and Haydn concertos. Above you and me. Punchable is the word I’m looking for. Brendan from Teenage Fanclub used to call him Bert.

Despite the high level of wankiness in half the band, there weren’t half some decent tunes there. Metal Mickey. The Drowners. So Young. Animal Nitrate. All singles from the first album. The accompanying gigs (especially at King Tuts) were a right froth of excitement too. Indie rock classics for those in the know, fireworks on the fretboards, Bernard’s the new Johnny ‘n all that. But it’s the second album I like best. Dog Man Star is (aye) arty, pretentious and preposterously overblown. Recorded while the singer spent most of his time fried on acid, it’s the album where Bernard realised he couldn’t work with the rest of the band and chose to leave them half way through recording. Butler favoured a loose, experimental approach to his songwriting. 10 minute guitar solos. Tracks that could ebb and flow for 15 minutes. The rest of the band baulked at this idea. They saw themselves as a classic rock group, 3 minute singles ‘n all that.  Butler would eventually be replaced in classic Jim’ll Fix It style by a 17 year old fanboy who could play all his parts note for note.  But despite all the background chaos, Dog Man Star is very much the band’s meisterwerk.

Why? It’s got the fuggy, druggy thunk of Introducing The Band on it. It’s got The Asphalt World. All 9+ minutes of it, ridiculous ‘ecstasy and arse-felt world‘ lyrics ‘n all. It’s got the glam-stomp ‘n whammy-barred pomp of This Hollywood Life on it. It’s got We Are The Pigs, the closest cousin to any of those fizzing singles from the first LP. It’s also got The Wild Ones, the best Suede tune bar none. Even Bert would agree with me on that one. It’s a classic mix of Butlerisms on the guitar – simple pull-on, pull-of chords joined together by as many notes as can be fitted in the space allowed and Anderson’s understated, almost crooned baritone. It starts simple enough then rises and rises to epic proportions, finishing in a fade out of despair (and judging by the demo, it was always meant to be. It arrived fully formed and everything). It’s soul music, Jim, but not as we know it. It doesn’t matter what you think of Suede as people, if you don’t like The Wild Ones there’s simply no hope for you. Away and listen to Pearl Jam instead.

Have a listen:

The Wild Ones (album version)

Ken (The Wild Ones four track demo)

The Wild Ones (unedited version)

*Bonus Track!

Standalone widescreen epic Stay Together was released betwixt and between those first 2 albums. The band instantly hated it. For what it’s worth, I’ve always liked the ridiculous grandeur of it all, as did apparently many others who helped make Stay Together Suede’s highest ever chart placing (number 3, pop pickers).

Back together, it seems.