Almost 30 years after their big pop -throw coming up, the veterans of the Britpop avoid the discos and casinos, the “Picnic by the Motorway” has long since been rotten, the last lalalas are smoked. One of the “Beautiful Ones” is still a singer Brett Anderson. Just a 57-year-old who thinks about the remaining time. Death and impermanence are the central themes of Suedes tenth album-so their comeback discography is as extensive as that of their storm-and-urge time.
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Anderson’s job has always been able to gain a lot, but the romantic longing for death of a teenager as in “The Next Life” from 1993 today in songs such as “Disintegate” and “Somewhere Betee on Atom and A Star” has given way to a more clarified agreement. It doesn’t help. It is always died. And yet, especially from the perspective of a father-“Sweet Kid” is devoted to Anderson’s 12-year-old son-natural fear of the unclear remains natural.
In the further context of the album, Anderson transfers it to the state of our nervous world in its permanent habitual position. He sighs, he whine. “Broken Music for Broken People” is one of the songs programmatically, which, however, is comparatively up-beat. And so antidepressants commute between gloomy realism and redeeming hymnic. In between, the heart of this band is pounding: Brett Anderson’s precarious pathos, his voice, which once again hugges everything and repels at the same time.
This review first appeared in the MusikExpress 09/2025.