Suede
Autofiction

The expectations surrounding the reunion of Suede in 2011 were quite high, but that they would be fulfilled so brilliantly (perhaps even exceeded) was something not many anticipated.

Three albums in five years, each more beautiful than the last, have marked a rediscovered form of the British quintet led by the tormented leader Brett Anderson, leading to a crescendo of works culminating with the sensational “The Blue Hour” four years ago, a sort of sublime synthesis of what Suede had been and what they wanted to become. We thus arrive at this new “Autofiction,” the ninth overall studio work, with the awareness of how difficult it was to do better, only to be spectacularly proven wrong once again.

“Autofiction” is another great album, openly experienced by the band as a fresh start (the secret concerts under the invented name “Crushed Kids” in recent days speak volumes) and as a return to the guitar-bass-drums-keyboard format, without the (albeit wonderful) superstructures that were progressively cloaking the music of the former London boys in recent studio trials. It's no coincidence that the new album begins with the classic noise of a jack being plugged into the guitar and ends with its extraction, as if we were witnessing an exclusive performance in a tiny rehearsal room.

The trusty Ed Buller returns to produce (after the successful Alan Moulder interlude for “The Blue Hour” alone), and in part, Suede this time hark back more decisively to the sound of their early works; it's impossible not to trace the magnificent decay of the “Dog Man Star” period in the clattering “Black Ice” and the sumptuous “Drive Myself Home,” perhaps their best song since the reunion. Just as it is easy to be transported back to the heyday of the eponymous debut in certain guitar choices by the sublime Richard Oakes (one of the most underrated guitarists of the last thirty years of British music).

However, it is partially covered by a post-punk veil never so accentuated in a work by the band, which explodes with more clamor in episodes like the single and opener “She Still Leads Me On,” a formidable and heartbreaking propellant written by Anderson in honor of his mother who passed away in 1989, and especially in the Interpol-like “Shadow Self,” the latter so aligned with new musical trends beyond the Channel to make Suede incredibly contemporary. “Personality Disorder” gifts the best riff of the lot, with an Anderson reminiscent of PIL in the verses.

There are no lack of moments with the more airy melodies dear to those who prefer the pop bombs of the “Coming Up” era (“The Only Way I Can Love You,” the second obvious single “15 Again,” the glam flame “That Boy On The Stage,” the latter already previewed live a few years ago) and the usual wonderful guitar blend by Oakes serving as a glue in long and evocative tracks (“It's Always The Quiet Ones,” “What Am I Without You”).

Closing everything is the noisy “Turn Off Your Brain And Yell,” certifying yet another triumph of a band that truly seems never to want to give up, not even by an inch.

Best track: Drive Myself Home