Suede Shines as Veneer Cracks; Kravitz Does His Thing

SUEDE

“Suede”

Columbia

* * 1/2

This London quartet was named the best new band by the British rock press almost by acclamation, but at first this debut album seems as obsolete as an 8-track. The glammy brand of pop is plush, dramatic and very poseur-ish--odd in a decade marked by riots and recession. Singer Brett Anderson sassily croons cryptic lyrics in a pretentious, overblown British accent while epic keyboards and spacey guitars do their best to alienate the common listener.

Three songs into “Suede,” the elaborate and boring production crumbles when Anderson’s charming vulnerability slips out in simple lyrics and warm notes and the band kicks out a rawer, more garagey edge. The Ziggy Stardust veneer cracks and Suede is revealed as a band of mere mortals. When not pretending to be superhuman, Suede churns out strong songs--a couple of fun, post-punk, power-pop tunes among them. But mostly the band oozes alluring, tousled and sexy songs over sometimes steamy lyrics or weaves sad and opiated melodies around Anderson’s shooting highs and desperate lows.

Suede’s songs may not pack the brilliance and freak-show intrigue of a Ziggy, but they’re more human--which seems far more relevant in the ‘90s--and just as entertaining.

New albums are rated on a scale of one star (poor) to four (excellent).