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 By
Richard Blackledge
Opportunities must be seized, as Brett Anderson and Bernard Butler know
all too well. As the song writing partnership which comprised the core of
Suede, the band which best documented the more decadent, sleazy aspects of
‘90s culture, Brett and Bernard allowed the chance to become Britpop’s
main attraction slip through their fingers in a tragic, self-destructive
combination of substance abuse (Brett was said to have spent the best part
of one interview describing a creature he had dreamt up called Jaquoranda,
which possessed the head of a deer and wore a sari) and differing opinions
– bitter rows over Suede’s second album ‘Dog Man Star’ (a fascinating
excursion into camp, Scott Walker-ish crooning and dense, heroin-tinged
glam-rock giddiness) finally killing off their relationship in 1994.
Suede continued, producing the against-the-odds success ‘Coming Up’, but
appeared slightly ephemeral without Butler’s expansive arrangements to
buoy them up. So it was that when the band finally called it a day in late
2003, having released the twin “shall-we-use-the-CD-as-a-coaster?”
disappointments ‘Head Music’ and ‘A New Morning’, as well as a poignant
singles compilation, Brett Anderson kicked his addictions, swallowed his
pride, and telephoned Bernard Butler. On their very first meeting, the
reunited pair hatched a plan to write a new record – new in every sense of
the word; for this was not to be Suede reformed, or Suede by another name.
So ‘Here Come The Tears’, as the title boldly proclaims, and on the first
listen, it appears the pair have used the platform this album provides to
air any lingering grievances over grand, sweeping ballads and bouncy,
excitable pop songs. The best moments arrive when Bernard takes charge –
as he does on ‘Refugees’, where a combination of weaving guitars and
triumphant strings make for a song so immediate that even Brett’s clunky
rhymes can be briefly excused.
Anderson stretching himself as an artist again has resulted in a few
lyrics that may well have been scribbled on the back of cigarette packets
– ‘Imperfection’ (“You taste like orange chocolate/You always put your
hands in my pocket”) and ‘A Love As Strong As Death’ (which seems to have
been translated from a different language, possibly his own) are the two
worst offenders.
However, beautiful songs like ‘Autograph’ (which owes a huge musical debt
to Johnny Marr, Bernard’s childhood hero) more than make up for these
blips and mis-steps.
Well, that is if anybody actually decides to purchase this album. Though
apparently unconcerned with commercial success, The Tears deserve much
more attention than they have been afforded thus far. It is confounding,
really. Is it the name? Do the public think that they are just another
bunch of indie upstarts with a ‘The’ prefix? Was it due to the album’s
delayed release date (it eventually hit the shelves on June 6, the same
day as Coldplay’s ‘X and Y’ and the White Stripes’ ‘Get Behind Me Satan’,
LPs which were hyped to high heaven)? Or are the songs just not up to
scratch?
The duo have been quoted as saying that this album will be “massively
bettered”; maybe if they take their own lyrics on ‘Apollo 13’ as advice –
“If you follow me, I will follow you to the unknown” – the follow-up might
be more satisfying.
Recommended Links:
http://www.thetears.org
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