When it comes to Suede, a band who I'd count myself as an actual fan of, choosing the first of their works to appraise is a tough call. Unlike most of the bands who have a selection of records I intend to cover, one of their albums is a single obvious standout for me, and I don't want to sing its praises only for the remainder of my Suede reviews to pale in comparison. Additionally, I don't want the restriction of going through them chronologically. So I've decided to start with an album I do like, that has undeniable virtue, but also marks a turning point for the band that tends to get overlooked. Writing this review is difficult, not because I don't have plenty to say on the matter, but because (again, unlike many musical outfits whose discographies I consider myself to be well-versed in) Suede's catalogue is, in my mind, directly comparable. Rating their albums together in one humongous essay would provide an easier structure for me to follow and probably be helpful in conveying the reasons for their rankings. But I'm not about to put anyone through that kind of slog.
After parting ways in 2003, 2013's Bloodsports is Suede's first release since reforming, and sees a return to their initial 'rock band' sound, having become a little less rock and a little more electronic with each of their first 5 studio albums. If this whole album was performed live, it would sound very similar to the recorded version, with no need for any instrument substitutions or special allowances. This return to roots is surely a conscious decision - probably an intentional ricochet off their 2002 flop A New Morning, which was full of sunny, squeaky-clean production - a perfectly valid direction, but nothing like how they began, and provenly unpopular with the listening public. Bloodsports first and foremost fills out the plastic shell Suede previously left behind with meat, in the form of thumping, resonant drums and assertive guitars. I'll get straight to the rankings so we can go into more detail:
Average Score: 5.8
My three highest-rated tracks are the epitome of this booming, confrontational sound. The opening bars of Hit Me are banged out at full force, the drums almost primitive in their boldness, and the chorus is equally thundering - a proclamation of the band's mettle, and a literal bait to the person at whom the lyrics are directed. Songs with this loud and proud approach are a wonderful counterpoint to the poetic, eclectic prose woven throughout the record. Whereas previous albums keep their thematic subjects broad and are talked about in a generalised, observational fashion, Bloodsports is very intimately written, with songs sung 'to' someone, not simply 'about' them. This allows for some beautiful turns of phrase, raw and delicate, and articulated in a way that frontman Brett Anderson simply could never achieve without this much more vulnerable and personalised approach. These elegant verses carry through to the quieter, more ethereal moments too, which help break up what could otherwise be a rather dense procession. The most notable instance of this is the softly haunting Sometimes I Feel I'll Float Away, which speaks of the addressee's 'impossible eyes' and 'hairpin bends', elegantly characterising the kind of tension often present in the most complex emotional relationships.
One thing I do find fault with is that Bloodsports marks the first time the band takes a real turn for the dour. It's been an ongoing issue since their reunion - thankfully Bloodsports manages to retain some of their former spunk, but all the seeds of their current aura of gloom are planted within. There's such a tangible inclination now growing towards thick smogs of guitar and drawling, ominous vocals. Percussion begins to favour atmospheric punctuation rather than actual rhythm, and the vivid, sweet-and-sour swagger of 90s Suede is starting to give way to a funereal, grey rigidity. The biggest contributor to this is the change in how chords are utilised - before, there was such an interesting push and pull of major and minor, with chord progressions twisting like smirks and leaving you tantalised for the unexpected. Now, Suede errs increasingly towards the minor, and the chord sequences play like dirges, without sufficient yang to counter the yin. Luckily only a handful of tracks from Bloodsports suffer this fate but, come the next album, a whole host of songs are largely minor affairs, unseasoned with tangy inflections or the odd surprise. I'm no musical theorist, but this just means I can't accurately name what I'm identifying - you don't need to be a scholar to recognise when music loses its colour.
This blaring dichotomy between before and after hiatus is so strange to me. They're still Suede - they still sound like the same band - but it's like they've grown up. Physically, they have, of course, but Suede were never exactly immature to begin with. They always represented a knowing, outsider voice among the everyman's Britpop. If Britpop is a family, with Blur and Oasis as boisterous, competitive brothers, I like to think of Suede as the black sheep, that distant, estranged second cousin. They're more alternative, more in tune with the underground, and more worldly. No, this gloom isn't simply Suede growing older, they're also growing colder. The unrelentingly dreary Sabotage is the worst culprit, while Always makes an attempt at harking back to the edgier contours present in Dog Man Star, but unsuccessfully so, instead coming across unbearably listless. After Bloodsports, my interest in their studio output unfortunately wanes, as both of its successors continue to perpetuate their trajectory into bleakness.
- Hit Me
- It Starts And Ends With You
- Snowblind
- Sometimes I Feel I'll Float Away
- Barriers
- What Are You Not Telling Me?
- For The Strangers
- Faultlines
- Sabotage
- Always
Average Score: 5.8
My three highest-rated tracks are the epitome of this booming, confrontational sound. The opening bars of Hit Me are banged out at full force, the drums almost primitive in their boldness, and the chorus is equally thundering - a proclamation of the band's mettle, and a literal bait to the person at whom the lyrics are directed. Songs with this loud and proud approach are a wonderful counterpoint to the poetic, eclectic prose woven throughout the record. Whereas previous albums keep their thematic subjects broad and are talked about in a generalised, observational fashion, Bloodsports is very intimately written, with songs sung 'to' someone, not simply 'about' them. This allows for some beautiful turns of phrase, raw and delicate, and articulated in a way that frontman Brett Anderson simply could never achieve without this much more vulnerable and personalised approach. These elegant verses carry through to the quieter, more ethereal moments too, which help break up what could otherwise be a rather dense procession. The most notable instance of this is the softly haunting Sometimes I Feel I'll Float Away, which speaks of the addressee's 'impossible eyes' and 'hairpin bends', elegantly characterising the kind of tension often present in the most complex emotional relationships.
One thing I do find fault with is that Bloodsports marks the first time the band takes a real turn for the dour. It's been an ongoing issue since their reunion - thankfully Bloodsports manages to retain some of their former spunk, but all the seeds of their current aura of gloom are planted within. There's such a tangible inclination now growing towards thick smogs of guitar and drawling, ominous vocals. Percussion begins to favour atmospheric punctuation rather than actual rhythm, and the vivid, sweet-and-sour swagger of 90s Suede is starting to give way to a funereal, grey rigidity. The biggest contributor to this is the change in how chords are utilised - before, there was such an interesting push and pull of major and minor, with chord progressions twisting like smirks and leaving you tantalised for the unexpected. Now, Suede errs increasingly towards the minor, and the chord sequences play like dirges, without sufficient yang to counter the yin. Luckily only a handful of tracks from Bloodsports suffer this fate but, come the next album, a whole host of songs are largely minor affairs, unseasoned with tangy inflections or the odd surprise. I'm no musical theorist, but this just means I can't accurately name what I'm identifying - you don't need to be a scholar to recognise when music loses its colour.
This blaring dichotomy between before and after hiatus is so strange to me. They're still Suede - they still sound like the same band - but it's like they've grown up. Physically, they have, of course, but Suede were never exactly immature to begin with. They always represented a knowing, outsider voice among the everyman's Britpop. If Britpop is a family, with Blur and Oasis as boisterous, competitive brothers, I like to think of Suede as the black sheep, that distant, estranged second cousin. They're more alternative, more in tune with the underground, and more worldly. No, this gloom isn't simply Suede growing older, they're also growing colder. The unrelentingly dreary Sabotage is the worst culprit, while Always makes an attempt at harking back to the edgier contours present in Dog Man Star, but unsuccessfully so, instead coming across unbearably listless. After Bloodsports, my interest in their studio output unfortunately wanes, as both of its successors continue to perpetuate their trajectory into bleakness.
I realise I'm now making Bloodsports out to be some kind of leaden requiem, but this is not the case. As I noted, the seeds of apparent sullenness are planted, but the forest is yet to grow. There's still plenty of life present, and the album does a lot to marry the best of Suede's various eras together. It may not have the hedonistic, youthful charisma of prior works, but it has such a bold and determined presence, and demonstrates incredible sensitivity and capability. It has a kind of competence that comes only to veteran artists, and they manage to tap, with expert dexterity, into so many of the impalpable characteristics that made them such a left-field powerhouse in the Britpop heyday. This alone shows that they never lost anything, they've just evolved, and continue to do so. I like to think of each Suede record as a stamp on an ever-growing timeline, and Bloodsports, though the beginning of a shift I don't necessarily respond to, represents a fulcrum in the band's sound that would be impossible anywhere else in time. Essentially, the best way to enjoy Bloodsports is to ignore the past and refrain from peering forward. Only when you blinker yourself this way can you become absorbed enough to appreciate it for what it is, without the contextual distractions that are, ultimately, the album's only real detractor.
No comments:
Post a Comment