The Tears
Here Come The Tears
Indiependiente
Long, long ago in a galaxy far away, Brett Anderson and Bernard Butler used to
be in Suede. Suede emerged in that wasteland between grunge and britpop. With their
thrashy neo-glam and warped torch songs, they cemented a reputation that led to them
being hailed as heirs to The Smiths. Their opening trio of releases
(The Drowners, Metal Mickey and Animal Nitrate) remains one of pop's most fantastic run of
singles. Moreover, they sketched an aesthetic universe both grimy and glamourous and
resurrected decent b-sides. The Big Time and My Insatiable One vied with the main
attractions for the listener's attention.They virtually introduced sexual ambiguity,
guitar pop ambition and David Bowie to a generation more au fait with plaid and
shoegazing. In the UK, their eponymous first album (1993) was the fastest selling
debut since Frankie's.
"And then it all went horribly wrong" to quote Anderson. The Anderson-Butler
partnership imploded at some time during the recording of "Dog Man Star" (1994). For the
reasons look to John Harris' weighty tome "The Last Party" for the most detailed
account. Bernard left Suede. The record's doom-laden opulence cast them as
outsiders at the britpop party. Not only was it a bulletin from a band that no longer
existed but its lugubious romanticism stood in stark contrast to the prevailing mood.
The record now seems destined for classic status with each passing year (one of the
few from the era). The menacing sense of apocalypse ("Introducing The Band", "We Are
The Pigs") no longer seems so histrionic while the extravagant ballads soar to heights
most rock bands only dream of reaching.
Suede continued without Butler. "Coming Up" (1996) became their biggest commercial
success, its 5 top 10 hits making it a virtual greatest hits package. The trebly,
fizzy glampop of the record seemed as extreme a swerve away from "Dog Man Star" as
anyone could get. And yet the record shows distinct signs of Brett's subsequent
descent into the self parody that made "Head Music" (1999) such an uneven affair. By the
time "A New Morning" (2002) emerged, the band seemed an anachronism rehashing the same
lyrical themes behind tepid musical backdrops. Frequent line-up changes only
contributed to the general lack of cohesion.
Butler's life beyond Suede proved to be more fruitful but less commercially
rewarding. His two records with David Mcalmont as Mcalmont & Butler are well worth
checking out. Both the "Sound Of..."(1995) and "Bring It Back" (2002) are criminally
overlooked. While the former is effectively a collection of EPs it includes the
thunderous "Yes", a slice of Spectorian Motown pop so stand alone that it is a definite
contender for single of the last decade. The latter is a slinky modern update of
rock-soul that deserved a far wider audience than it received. His two solo records
"People Move On" (1998) and "Friends And Lovers" (1999) are better than most guitarists
turned singers and the former in particular contains some terrific moments.
Anderson and Butler have regrouped to form The Tears with Nathan Fisher
(bass), Will Foster (keys) and longtime Butler drummer Mako Sakomato. The idea of
Anderson and Butler in 2005 is a tricky proposition; on one hand there was a
frustrating sense of unfinished business about Butler's initial exit from Suede and
yet all those compositions remain such precious, immaculate vignettes that following
them up seems an arduous task.
So it comes as a surprise that "Here Comes The Tears" is as great as it is. At
the very least, it sounds like a radically improved incarnation of late period Suede.
At Its core however, are a clutch of songs that raise the bar on the Anderson-Butler
partnership. "Refugees" covers familiar Anderson terrain romanticizing as it does those
on society's margins. But Butler's musical backdrop is a compressed vintage mini
symphony . The record is perfect pop; a rush of joy underpinned by a sense of pathos.
Imperfection repeats the trick with an even bigger wall of sound, its bouncy beat and
sweeping strings recalling the girl group confections of the 60's. Andersons lyrcal
musings tend to resonate more potently in Butler's nuanced, idiosyncratic musical
settings (the growling feedback behind the line "passion creeps like death inside
me" is one of many neat touches ). And "Lovers" seems like suede ordinaire on paper but
the delivery is one of such reckless abandon it manages to transcend its familarity.
Both the stomping Four Tops style rhythm and a crunchy guitar line deliciously
duplicates the vocal melody give the track a surge of its own.
Not all the credit can go to Mr Buter, Anderson does seem re-energized the alliance
after the unfocused democracy of atter day Suede. His voice sounds impeccable
throughout, gone for the most part is the hoarse rasp of the last Suede recordings.
"2 Creatures" features one of his most exquisite vocal melodys, oddly reminiscent of
Jimmy Webb in its primary coloured radiance. A rolling travelogue, its questing
romance ("we'll fly over the endess oceans, heading for the winter sun") make it a
distant, more wide-eyed cousin to Bowie's "Move On.." Lyrically there seems to be a
more soul-searching quality to Brett's musings than before. "Brave New Century" pours
scorn on a cuture that "spits on refugees" and "worship(s) shit celebrities". The
polemic is bolstered by Butler's cavernous John Barry meets Buffalo Springfied
psych-rock. Simiarly, the shimmering orch-pop of "Beautiful Pain" revisits classic
Anderson-Buter territory. It transforms personal anguish ("this time, cold turkey")
into an exhilirating musical drama, all executed with a sickening thrill. Those
enamoured with this vaudevilian strut shoud definitely check out John Howard's 70's
lost gem "Kid In a Big World".
Another standout is "The Ghost Of You" which approaches an emotional honesty that
represents a new apex for Anderson. A requiem for a loved one deceased or departed,
the song is poignantly imbued with localized details ("the salvation army collected
your things", "I smelt the perfume on the scarf that you wore"). The arrangement is
suitably nimble; a densely layered soundscape that never detracts away from the
starkness of the content.. leslied swirls of sound and percussive clutter build a
lovely baroque (the magnetic fields on a big budget) that builds to a crescendo.
Brett's almost Eno-like wail at the climax is heartbreaking; visceral yet stately in
its restraint.
But it is the closing tracks of Here come the tears that really dazzle,
recalling (and perhaps surpassing) the swoonsome glory at the end of "Dog Man Star".
"Apollo 13" flickers between a waltzing downbeat verse and a keening chorus. A chorus
that soars to greater heights every time it comes around eventually exploding into a
statosphere of harps and guitar fx. It is the kind of twisted love song that only
Anderson and Butler can write, peculiarly antique and yet utterly part of the modern
world. It leaves the competetion earthbound being a slice of otherworldly dream-pop
cut from the same cloth as Bowie's "life on mars?", The Beatles "a day in the life" and
Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights". The kind of songs they originally used as the template
for their songwriting. Closing track, "A Love as Strong As Death" sustains the ethereal
mood. While early suede piano ballads were tear-stained laments, this one bathes in an
almost hymnal serenity. Startling in its simplicity, the song is soaked in a rich yet
subte wash of Hawaiian guitar, strings and spacey synths ending the record on a
perfect note of celestial radiance.
There is barely a duff track here; only "Co-star" seems merely good. There is the
sense, partly due to the clutch of tracks at the end, that they wil return again with
something more extreme and devastating. But Anderson has undoubtedy rediscovered 'the demon' he was
in search of at the time of Suede's demise. The Blakeian poetics of the "Dog Man Star"
era are unlikely to return but there is a direct and communicative warmth here that
moves beyond the prosaic lexicon of late period Suede. The strength of good pop
music rarely lies in the dexterity of the wordplay anyway. Butler's sympathetic
backdrops majestically sweep over any minor glitches. "Here Come The Tears" will
hopefully prove to be not an aberration but the first of many installments to the
Anderson-Butler saga.
By Mathew Lindsay
