Suede in Five Songs

The Hits, The Anthems & The Stories That Stuck

You don’t just listen to Suede. You swear by Suede. Blame Suede. Keep Suede. There’s no halfway. Suede were too brittle for Britpop and too beautiful for grunge. All cheekbones, theatrical and filthy, never pretending to be part of any movement Suede didn’t start.

Suede weren’t the band you discovered. Suede were the band you fell into.

This is a five-track starter guide.

1. The Hit – Beautiful Ones

Built like a sugar crash. Chords sprinting ahead of the vocals. Brett dragging the verses behind him like a stolen boa. “High on diesel and gasoline…” That line did more damage to adolescence than actual petrol.

It’s wired. Shouting “Here they come!” like you’re summoning ghosts. Guitars glittering. Everything covered in last night’s eyeliner. Even hammered in a club toilet, it hits you right in the ribs.

This wasn’t escape. This was a purge. Glamour, dirt, pride. All at once.

2. The Banger – We Are the Pigs

Track one. Dog Man Star. No easing in. Just sirens, screams, and something that sounds like glass shattering. If Beautiful Ones invited you in, We Are the Pigs locked the door behind you.

The guitars don’t chug. They claw. Brett whispers like he’s threatening someone pretty. The whole thing sounds like London collapsing in slow motion.

Try watching it live at Astoria ’94. Feedback everywhere. Kids frozen. Everyone knew something had shifted.

3. The Album Track – The Asphalt World

Track eight. Nine minutes. No chorus. No air. Just Suede at full stretch. It starts like a sigh and ends like a breakdown. Neil Codling’s synths barely keep it tethered. Bernard Butler's guitar sounds like it’s trying to get out.

It’s obsessive. It’s filthy. It’s gorgeous. It doesn’t move forward. It spirals.

Nobody makes tracks like The Asphalt World anymore. And even Suede only got close once.

4. The Live Favourite – The Drowners (Reading Festival, 1992)

You can still find the footage. Brett on stage, somewhere between ballet and breakdown. Arms flailing. Jaw set. Shirt undone. The Drowners didn’t need lights. It lit the place on its own.

That riff? Just impact. Immediate. Unfiltered. The drums? Just tight enough to let the whole thing swing.

This was Suede, arriving already iconic, ripping up any map Britpop thought it was drawing.

5. The Deep Cut – These Are the Sad Songs

Track seven on A New Morning. No promo. No play. Just a whisper in the middle of a record nobody wanted.

But that’s where it gets you. Quiet, hollow, hanging on a single line that barely lands. Brett sounds like he’s already left the room. The guitars stay out of the way.

You don’t remember it until you need it. And then it’s the only one that makes sense.

The Fade Out

Five songs. Five reasons. Put your headphones on. Press play. Suede will handle the rest.