Suede – Autofiction Review

On the back of three strong, reflective singles, Suede are primed and ready for a comeback. Did they ever really leave? Sort of. The Blue Hour was a controlled and at times placid album. Suede’s return has not hit the fiery highs the band are capable of. Their return to form is not yet complete. That does change with Autofiction, an album that provides new scope for the band while also revisiting their earliest offerings. It reflects rather than adapts. They’ve been writing new songs for the last four years and this appears to be the cream of the crop. Autofiction is the toil and sweat of new lyrics from Brett Anderson and company, and the results couldn’t be better.

Album opener She Still Leads Me On has only gotten better and better, a ballad of lost love for those that didn’t deserve it in the first place. This is the darker state Suede has been chasing since Bloodsports. They have finally caught up to it. Personality Disorder is the great ballast of She Still Leads Me On. Where the album opener may be the rejection of false love, Personality Disorder follows it up and expands on why someone would feed on that advantageous dynamic in the first place. It smacks of Further Complications from the solo work of fellow Britpop alumni Jarvis Cocker. Seeking out troubles to cultivate a personality. Suede is much darker and harsher, much more serious than that aforementioned offering.

Those crashing guitars on That Boy on Stage now have a place to claim their ingenuity. Slotting between The Only Way I Can Love You and Drive Myself Home provides a great understanding of theme. Suede’s final single to promote Autofiction may be the best track of all. Again it shows the lyrical consistencies and vocal range Anderson is adapting to as an artist reflecting on his former works. Sombre inclusion Drive Myself Home gives the reflective process of thinking over that lost love, a common and consistent theme that gives Suede an angle for their latest album. It works, with touching, experienced lyricisms backed up by superb instrumentals that sound harsh and consistent.

Suede is back to what they were, sinister and sexy musicians riffing on love, drugs and the chemistry between them. It’s always the quiet ones, as one track muses on. That is true. Suede was never quiet, though. Autofiction is not a quiet album. It is loud, bashful and volatile at its best yet still makes time for the slower ballads that Suede was so clearly suited for. What Am I Without You? manages to take Suede not just to a new sound, but also to a place of reflection. Autofiction may be swept away with comparisons to their debut album, but it is hard not to label this the best work Suede has provided this century. Infused with reflection as much as it is new ideas, the perfect balance between looking back and pushing forward is struck. It makes for a remarkable work that proves Suede are not just attempting to rekindle their former flames. They’re content with lambasting them too.