#to the past and stuff. so then grunge and britpop and other stuff happened

[kitchensinksurrealism]

can never describe enough how excited I am for the inevitable 2010s revival of the future

(also this turned into a massive ramble accidentally?)

[wereonlydollparts]

Hey hey!! 🎁

It's your fairy God santa here! I dont really know what to say so let's just do a little question round so I can find out a bit more about you 🩷🤍

Are there any musicians you are currently obsessed with? (Feel free to nerd out about them!!)

Are there any concerts or festivals you're looking forward to?

Any other recent obssesions? (e.g. games, movies, books, ...)

Got all presents for the holidays? (in case you celebrate)

Anyway I'm a bit tired so this might not be the best first santa impression. But once I get to know ya a bit ill make sure to spice it up!

Hop you have. a lovely day/night! 🩷🤍

(Please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes)

- Your fairy God santa 🎅✨️

Ahhhhhh ok wait that is the sweetest message ever?🥺💕

Thank you so so much for taking your time to write me this message~♡

I hope you had a great start into December so far×

And in regards to your questions...

My biggest love when it comes to music had for the past like 17 years been Kurt Cobain. I feel like it's an unhealthy obsession, but considering I'm a smoker he isn't necessarily the unhealthiest habit of mine. In regards to grunge i also love Layne Staley! What can I say... im a sucker for blue eyes, dirty blond hair and an aura of sadness.

And besides these two I ofc need the British answer to grunge and I can't express how much this britpop revival actually means to me. For years the running joke in my friend group was that all the artists/bands I like are either broken up, dead or dying

If i had a nickel for everytime I bought tickets to a show only for the artist to die before the show; I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

Anyway! Back to fun things! I can't believe Oasis are back and just the british indie revival in general ahhh

Besides the grunge guys I've also had a huge crush on Liam Gallagher and Damon Albarn since I was a teen as well (something about sad blue eyes yadayada)...

But perfect to answer the upcoming concert question! Technically the next concerts I'm going to are from local bands~ me and my friends have a group where we occasionally organize shows. The next one will be with some local Sludge, Doom and Post Metal bands so that's coming up. Other than that... a 2 day punk festival next weekend (with the same group but not organizing). And the first/next one i look super duper forward to are The Libertines~♡ in early 2025.

And man in regards to all the shows in 2025... I'm broke but I'm so happy hhaha

And for the last points speed round!

I'm Journaling and painting a lot, dusted off my keyboard and put new strings on my guitar! (I will as always just stick to playing bass i guess), organizing/planning my best friends Bachelorette party, cuddling the cats and my bf, playing switch and falling asleep after 5 minutes, waiting to hear back for a cool job at a TV station, law exams and procrastinating law stuff (i have a law degree and am currently working on my other bar and a master in criminal sciences so lawschool and Kurt Cobain have been the biggest constant for the past 9 years lol)

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST! Baking cookies with my mom~

Ahhhh ok well now it's your turn!😤💕

Excuse the word vomit

[kalluun-patangaroa]

Suede: The Insatiable Ones – the ugly beautiful truth is a must watch

Waiting for this:

you may read this nice review:

The GQ Magazine

Saturday 24 November 2018 

By George Chesterton

A new Sky Arts documentary about Suede uncovers the tangled tale of a band who mixed glamour and excess with the dark poetry of suburbia

Credit: Sky/Dean Chalkley                        

                        By the time of Suede’s fourth album, 1999’s Head Music, it was easy to imagine that Brett Anderson had been replaced by a Brett Anderson Random Lyric Generator. But by 1999 Suede were out of step, just as they had been when they released their first single in 1992. They are a band who admit to never fitting in and even at their commercial peak they were trapped between what they had been rejecting, American grunge and indie dance, and what they inadvertently gave birth to, Britpop. They remained outside whatever cultural moment they happened to be sashaying past in slightly flared trousers. Suede always had delusions of grandeur. But what beautiful delusions they were.

The Sky Arts documentary Suede: The Insatiable Ones, follows the band’s successes and troubles through interviews, archives and a mass of video shot by the drummer Simon Gilbert in the studio and on the road. The film, by Mike Christie, begins with Anderson nodding sagely in a studio listening to some orchestration in Prague. It’s indicative of what Suede always wanted to be: a band not necessarily driven by an ambition to be huge, but rather a band with huge ambitions.

Suede: The Insatiable Ones begins with the journey of Anderson from school in Haywards Heath to University College London, where the singer met Justine Frischmann in 1989 and formed the core of the group with his childhood friend, bassist Mat Osman (brother of Richard Osman, who appears throughout). The generosity of Frischmann’s testimonials provide some of the warmest moments of the film, adding welcome perspective to a band whose entire existence was so cultivated or, to their detractors, contrived.

               Suede admit to never fitting in. They always had delusions of grandeur. But what beautiful delusions they were    

Recounting the cash-strapped early years, we discover the shock when The Smith’s drummer Mike Joyce auditioned – “It was one of the strangest things that ever happened to us” says Osman – and that Gilbert’s arrival was down in part to his friend Ricky Gervais, who, for a short time, was their ineffectual co-manager. “I remember saying, ‘oh I’m rubbish at this,’” says Gervais. “And the band agreed.” Then Bernard Butler answered an ad for a guitarist in the NME. His arrival and Frischmann’s departure – she left Anderson with a broken heart but a stack of his best lyrics to write – hastened the great leap they were looking for. “It enabled me to tap into something primal – loss, frustration, jealousy,” says Anderson. “I was trying to reflect the world around me – squats, roundabouts – but it was also an escape.”

The film captures the sudden emergence of Suede’s particularity, as they signed to Nude Records and played to increasingly hysterical audiences. As Stuart Maconie, the man who put Anderson on the cover of Select magazine in April 1993 with headline “Yanks Go Home” explains. Suede have a very definite constituency. It emerged from and reflected the emotional frigidity and patio-grey deserts of suburbia. And just like any artists looking beyond the horizons of their claustrophobic home, Suede were at once explorers and prisoners. The music, the image, the lyrics were a reaction against their environment that could never escape its own frames of reference.

Credit: Getty Images 

From the first time I heard The Drowners – especially the B-Side To The Birds – it was obvious to me why I liked them so much. The early part of the documentary explores Anderson and Osman’s emergence from Haywards Heath – something Anderson himself eloquently recounts in his autobiography Coal Black Mornings. This was a world I knew rather too well for comfort and he articulated it with unnerving accuracy. He became the poet laureate of pylons, municipal parks and cheap housing stock. If anything, the film does not state the impact of the first singles and their debut album, Suede, enough. It was a moment of exuberance and drama just as British pop seemed to have run out of steam (again). “The sexuality in the lyrics was a really important thing,” says Anderson. “I wanted to talk about sexuality in the same way Lucian Freud paints the human body.”

Butler, a lithe, beautiful figure with a guitar in his hands, is shown only in old clips and his contributions do not go beyond an interview he shared with Anderson after their acrimony had been resolved in 2004. It’s telling that when Osman talks of Butler’s slide into the musical monomania that saw him leave during their second album, Dog Man Star, he admits he wishes they had shown more empathy for this fragility. Butler was still grieving for his father in 1994, and this compounded the collapse of his relationship with Anderson and their producer Ed Buller.

Dog Man Star was recorded in shifts so Butler could work alone and he and Anderson effectively wrote their songs “by post”. Butler’s dark Brian Wilson routine did help create the massive sound and scope of Dog Man Star, which appeared just as the meat and potatoes of Britpop was emerging into the mainstream. “I felt partly responsible for it,” says Anderson of Britpop. “Like giving birth to some awful child.” It’s an album that should be treasured – grandiloquent and brooding but also deeply humane and smart. Butler’s exit fulfils that great trope of pop and rock history: the “what if” question. But this is misleading, as Anderson explains. He knew from the beginning that Butler would leave. It was simply a question of when.

       Suede's first album was a moment of exuberance and drama just as British pop seemed to have run out of steam

This sorry episode is lifted by the bathos of film’s funniest moment: the footage of a dewy-eyed Anderson in his dark glasses at a press conference following Butler’s departure, looking like David St Hubbins after Nigel Tufnell quits Spinal Tap. He admits, “Ninety-nine per cent of the world thought we were over, including part of me.”

Frischmann explains that Suede survived because it was always Anderson and Osman’s band. With bloody mindedness and the 17-year-old guitarist Richard Oakes (the first gig he had ever been to was Suede, who he watched with eyes on stalks at Poole Arts Centre in 1993) they returned with new songs and the wise decision to change the mood. That led to their most commercially successful album, bursting with big hits, Coming Up, helped by keyboard player Neil Codling. “It was such an optimistic record and that was a side of Suede nobody had seen before,” said Buller. The film reunites Anderson with the legendary Factory designer Peter Saville, who seemed to have created the band’s artwork of this period entirely in his dressing gown.

Credit: Getty Images

By the late Nineties the momentum was unsustainable, especially as Anderson, who admits his penchant at the hard stuff, became an free-basing self-parody. “I justified my addiction by seeing it as part of a rock’n’roll mythology.” Needless to say, wanting to make a Prince album hit a few snags. Firstly, he was high on crack and heroin. Secondly, he wasn’t Prince. Osman remembers how the band could tell if Anderson had been smoking crack because he would arrive at the studio with his hair pushed back to avoid setting it alight. Even when the singer got clean, the music had run dry. “We were done – we’d run out of inspiration,” says Osman. The fifth album has been officially disowned. In a group therapy session arranged for the film, Anderson apologises to the rest of the members for his behaviour and for announcing the split on Graham Norton. After a few awkward confessions, the footage cuts to them reforming at the Royal Albert Hall in 2010 and loving every minute of it.

           Osman said he could tell if Anderson had been smoking crack because he would arrive at the studio with his hair pushed back to avoid setting it alight

After side and solo projects, Suede returned and are slotting comfortably into national treasure status with three albums since, including this year’s The Blue Hour. Suede care. They do their homework. They make the effort. Nothing demonstrates this better than their love of the now archaic-sounding B-side, which they produced by the bucketload (collected on the fine Sci-Fi Lullabies in 1997), when other bands couldn’t be bothered.

Accusations of pretentiousness are pointless. If pop can’t be pretentious then there is no hope for humanity. Anyway, such barbs are often made by those for whom imagination itself is an act of class war. Like their contemporaries Pulp, Suede are canonical English pop, mixing the wry fantasies of art school (Bowie, Roxy Music, even Kate Bush), the working-class smarts of The Kinks and the sleaze of new wave. If you don’t understand Suede, you don’t understand English music. This is an understated documentary for a band who tried to be anything but understated. Then again, under the filthy glamour of Suede there has always been something dark and grey. To take a few examples at random: concrete, flyovers, motorways, council houses, skyscrapers, telephone wires, electric lights…

Suede: The Insatiable Ones is on Sky Arts on 24 November at 8pm, followed by Suede: Live At The Royal Albert Hall at 11.15pm