Head Music

05/25/1999 3:00 AM, LAUNCH
Ken Micallef

Pity poor Suede (the "London" bit is only in the U.S.). The old boys, very big on the other side of the Atlantic, have never cracked the metal-fisted, hip-hop-addled American record market. And that's a shame. While Suede always lacked the common touch of Oasis and the commoner's class of Pulp, their style, sound, and sheer attitude have meant more to many UK kids than a hundred NME cover stars combined.

Though singer-songwriter Brett Anderson's warbling, squeaky tones are not everyone's cup of tea, Suede's Bowie-esque glam rock cuts a razor path through much of the UK pop wasteland. That holds true for Head Music, at least initially. The first three tracks are prime glam-o-rized Suede, then the album gives way to bittersweet moods, billowing beats, and fluffy, spiraling strings. Perhaps this is Suede slowing down, changing direction as they set their sites on country homes, kids, and royalty checks. Or maybe, Suede have realized that they needn't please the masses to remain vital, that music can go beyond turbulent guitars and androgynous posturing. Head Music--cerebral sounds for aging Brit-pop boys.