Suede
Outsiders

This review is dedicated to those who feel the weight of time on their bones and to those who struggle not to succumb to it, somehow.

Almost a year ago, Suede made themselves heard again, and this single on the radio, from the very first notes, gave me something inexplicable.

The British band had indeed taken an indefinite break back in 2003. The alchemy of Brett Anderson's lyrics and Oakes' dreamy guitars took a hard hit due to the leader's drug addiction and the lack of creativity linked to internal group problems.

In 2013, Bloodsports marked a triumphant return to the spleen and melancholic atmospheres we were accustomed to (on the official website, they gave away the splendid Barriers for free download).

But what really amazed me about this band with a turbulent past was Outsiders, and believe it or not, despite the glories of the past, it's the song I prefer created by them.

The sound of the track is enriched by a pounding and consistent drum rhythm followed by Oakes' introduction with icy notes, while the keyboards dominate the entire area.

The plot is that of an impossible love, or, a love that erupts but cannot spread, perhaps out of fear of a hostile reality. It's about two damned souls.

By the roadside shrine there's a place, selling bouquets of cellophane.

That's where they meet, in this desolate place, and the more they see the more they say.

After words and instruments perfectly draw a landscape that seems like a painting observed in the mind, the awareness of being downright wrong, on the wrong side of the road, calls you to itself.

Thrown like two winter roses into a broken vase,

They're playing the hand they play caught in the game they made.

And now you have only one chance to strike, before the night and passion give way to another inexorable dawn. It’s time to not care about what is right or wrong.

She puts her faith in the moment, Outsiders.

He puts his faith in the moment, Outsiders.

The video made for the piece is practically the cover of Night Thoughts, and throughout its duration, it captures the moment “where all hopes are poured.” The shot is not trivial, on the contrary, I find it to be the deserved exaltation of the simplicity of a gesture that indeed gives emotions, especially for what it hides, for the meaning placed behind appearances. Perhaps the same ones described in the single.

I don't like making comparisons between different artists, but a bit of the substance of which the Cure are made can be found here.

Now, the obvious question might be: "What does time have to do with all of this?"

In reality, I don't know if time is truly an adversary or a friend. Everyone experiences different situations and fluctuating moments.

Birth, grief, victory, loss.

But sometimes it gives you opportunities, like being an Outsider, choosing whether to send the world to hell and really live how you want, with whom you want, facing the reaction of convention while you step on it.

Like the opportunity to remain silent and not say what you think. More than schools of thought, choices, and rationality.

Then maybe time is a bastard guy counting your remaining days, or an old friend who sits and quietly listens to your ideas. And while he's sitting there for you, you can tell him whatever you want.

A knife, and choose well the place for the scar.