Suede: Ally Pally, London

Last Thursday, Suede headlined the Ally Pally Outdoor Summer Season with fellow icons Manic Street Preachers in support.

Suede’s second incarnation band has been the blueprint for returning or older bands. They’ve walked the tightrope of nostalgia and creative output with aplomb, culminating in 2023’s classic ‘Autofiction’, a brutally personal dissection of Brett Anderson’s grief for his mother. The prose of the romantics was twisted into Ian Curtis’ poetic nihilism, giving their day dot fans something new to clutch to their hearts.

With such raw pain barely in the rearview mirror, they set out on tour with fellow lifers, the Manic Street Preachers, with most expecting a more relaxed greatest hits approach. On paper, they were right.

In reality, Suede’s huge (sort of) homecoming was a piece of intense performance art. Yes, it relied heavily on the past for content, but it was delivered with artistic credulity; no one was left uttering the dreaded B word.   

Osman’s throbbing bass on the opener ‘Turn Off Your Brain and Yell’ lit fire to a set that burned uncontrollably for large parts. Anderson, resplendent in his mournful-cum-disco-chic black, strode the stage like an actor stepping up to Hamlet. Steely-eyed, soft of heart, and defiant in spirit, as he decreed, “come on now and reveal yourself, and I’ll bend to you”, the vast crowd responded in kind.

The bulk of the set felt like two great sides of vinyl. Sex, drugs, and rock n roll fuelling a fire of flamboyance and righteousness. Both sides are bookended by pin-drop moments that will live forever in the hearts and minds of all who drew breath to witness. The grandiose ‘Still Life’ made its tour debut to bookend the first half of the set. As the moon drifted across the skyline, the eye was drawn to the greed of the city and then closer to London’s endless flats. Just how many were “there by the window” waiting? Wrapping up the second half was an acoustic version of ‘The Wild Ones’. Anderson and Richard Oakes stepped back at points, allowing the crowd to become a congregation rejoicing in a hymnal unison.

From the old to the new, Suede proved the adage that if a job is worth doing, it is worth doing well. Whether it’s shaking the snake-like hips to the glam roar of ‘Metal Mickey’ and ‘Trash’ or immersing himself in the bitter, venomous love of ‘The Only Way I Can Love You’, Anderson is a work of art. Backing him up is lead guitarist Oakes. His rock ‘n’ roll hedonism on Beautiful Ones and ‘New Generation’ would have stolen the stole in any other band. As a unit, they attack the potency of Anderson’s lyrics with the snarl and tenderness they deserve.

Nine years on from the release of ‘Bloodsports’, Suede have proved that musical journeys are worth traversing. From humble beginnings to 2023’s career-defining album, the people have been willing to follow and on that night at Ally Pally, Suede gave them something to follow for another generation.

Suede: Hammersmith Apollo, London (Saturday)

“Misshapes, mistakes, misfits / We'd like to go to town but we can't risk it, oh / 'Cause they just want to keep us out”

Pulp, Different Class, 1996

Every time a Suede gig comes around, it’s a constant reminder that the human condition, the clashing individualism and collective belonging can be precious thing. It’s the musical equivalent of Ken Loach’s working class life and Danny Boyle’s underclass flamboyance.

From the moment Southend’s finest exports The Horrors take to the stage, the sense that the outsiders are taking charge once more is tangible. Quite simply:

“We are the pigs, 
We are the swine, 
We are the stars of the firing line”

Emerging silhouetted ramped up the anticipation of seeing the hip shaping acrylic shirt wearing Anderson. Despite the brilliance of the band, Anderson’s light still burns brightest. Even with all the success and adulation, he still seeks out the most intimate connection with the audience. None more prevalent than on the acoustic (and no microphone) version of ‘The Power’. It’s always been an emotional cog in their live armoury, this rendition became a hymn for the bored and disaffected in England’s satellite towns.

As the set grows, the realisation of just how remarkable their return to new releases in 2013 unfurls. The brutal examination of a Brett’s relationship with his father on ‘I Don’t Know How To Reach You’ (‘Night Thoughts’ 2016) brings a rare silence as Richard Oakes’ playing haunts this West London audience. ‘The Outsiders’ (‘Night Thoughts’ 2016), with guitar licks from the early days of The Cure, is as romantic as Anderson’s characters have ever been and, if alternative pop were still a thing, ‘It Starts An Ends With You’ would be challenging their highest chart positions.  Live, it allows Suede to convey that rock n roll desperation, the thirst to be heard is not just for the young.

As five thousand people head to the tube station, the quiet, reserved nature of the Suede fan returns. The staring begins again, Doc Martens are a sign of leprosy once more, and ‘through the slippery city we ride’. Little do they know, that art, in its purest form has been witnessed by people more beautiful than they’ll ever know.

Suede - Night Thoughts

Before 'Bloodsports' was released in 2013, the band and fans had been apart for 11 years. It reminded everyone that it was okay to look, feel, and be different still. With the loss of their hero Bowie a week prior to ‘Night Thoughts’, it suddenly became imperative that this feeling remain alive.

On paper, this is a wet dream for Suede fans. The album and song titles suggest their darker side has been tapped. God bless, because no one does shattered Bohemia like Brett Anderson.

This is never more evident than on ‘Outsiders’. Glorious memories of ‘Trash’ come flooding back as Oakes fine riff rattles around with an air of desolation. It may be a tale of fetid romance but the closing repetition of outsiders is far more formidable. It serves as a familiar clarion call, which the marginalised will always be glad to hear.

The rest of the album may not live up to the outstanding quality of ‘Outsiders,’ but it has enough to resonate with loyal fans. ‘No Tomorrow revives the Bowie-esque glam, while ‘What I’m Trying To Tell You’ delves into the guitar parts of the ‘Coming Up’ era.

‘I Don’t Know How to Reach You’ allows Oakes to sparkle once more on the album. Interestingly, though, it takes a more introspective path. The melody throughout and the guitar solo are more akin to Noel Gallagher or Johnny Marr’s recent solo efforts. Anderson builds the tension and anguish of the protagonist in verse, thus allowing Oakes rare extended guitar solos that are steeped in emotion.

‘Night Thoughts’ shines at times brightly but too often deviates from this level. It never strays into poor territory, but some of the slower efforts don’t add to the narrative for what is clearly a fine effort in songwriting by Anderson.