Photo: WENN
Dog Man Star was a curious record. Widely considered Suede’s masterpiece, it was a sad, angry and sexual record, best personified by waking up in a stranger’s bed, wiping crusted white powder from your right nostril and fucking despising your own reflection in the mirror.
It was Suede’s venom to kill what they had created – to spell an end of days of Britpop and the faux-working class hedonism saturating mid-90s music and culture, for which they felt responsible. Ironic, then, that at their grandiose and triumphant gig at London’s Kenwood House, only a single track from Dog Man Star, main set closer ‘New Generation’, gets an airing. But perhaps the reason to seemingly ignore their most seminal work, which tore them apart at the seams and led to the departure of Bernard Butler, is that this night is a celebration much more than a downtrodden melancholic reflection. Suede have, well, they've done it, haven’t they?
They've pulled off the comeback of a generation, laying the blueprint for all how bands should reform without making it seemingly obvious you’re doing it for one last hallowed grasp of glory. And they've done it with a fine album in Bloodsports to boot. Not everyone knew Suede the first time around, but judging by the thousands of fans at Kenwood House, clutching their chests and reaching out to their re-reason hero in Brett Anderson, shouting back every word to songs new and old, they haven’t really missed a beat since their heyday 20 years ago.
Their set does seem rushed, however. But when you've got such a well-cherished legacy and a strict noise curfew, there’s not really a lot you can do. It means Suede don’t have the time to let their songs naturally breathe, but when provocative odes to “being a little different” like ‘Animal Nitrate’ and ‘Beautiful Ones’ are being shouted back by a throng of thousands with their arms and pints aloft, shaking the very foundations of Kenwood House itself, it’s hard to argue.
Yes, Anderson still looks like he’s been chiselled from granite and commands a stage third only to Morrissey and Jarvis, and sonically, the Butler-less band not only compliment their legacy, but build upon it. But the moment which sums up Suede at Kenwood house is when b-side and rarity ‘Killing of a Flashboy’ evokes a reaction from the crowd louder than ‘Wonderwall’ at an Oasis gig.
For the 40-somethings in the crowd, this is about being a 20-something again. And for the 20-somethings, this is everything we’d ever imagined after hearing about the fabled Suede from our dads and friend’s older brothers. Suede’s reunion isn't about stealing one hollow moment of ecstasy like jilted lovers who should know better, it’s about rebuilding towards the future while fondly remembering what once was. And, you know, we don’t really need Dog Man Star for that.
