Bernard Butler discography SUEDE-Catalog No.: NUDE1CD Label: nude / Release Date: 3/29/1993 / U.K. CD / Titles So Young (03:38) / Animal Nitrate (03:27) / She's Not Dead (04:33) / Moving (02:50) / Pantomime Horse (05:49)/ The Drowners (04:10) / Sleeping Pills (03:50) / Breakdown (06:02) / Metal Mickey (03:27)/ Animal Lover (04:17) / The Next Life (03:32) / picture of Brett Anderson by Paul Rider for Q magazine, from the archives of suedeonline.com lyrics: brett anderson music: bernard butler she can start to walk out when she wants because we're young, because we're gone we'll take the tide's electric mind, oh yeah? oh yeah we're so young and so gone, let's chase the dragon, oh because we're young, because we're gone we'll scare the skies with tigers eyes, oh yeah? oh yeah we're so young and so gone, let's chase the dragon, oh let's chase the dragon . . . . . . from our home high in the city where the skyline stained the snow i fell for a servant who kept me on the boil we're so young and so gone, let's chase the dragon from our home! Whatever happened to the teenage dream? By Dave Cavanagh (Q magazine) UK december 1992 On the wall of Brett Anderson’s dingy claustrophobic Notting Hill first-floor flat hangs a poster of David Bowie. A pretty cool idea. Millions had it before him. Anderson likes to contemplate the picture while he sips his tea. But this is one of the most anomalous and challenging images from Bowie’s mighty folio. Shot in grainy fag-ash monochrome, he sits side-on with head back, long hair draped over one half of his face, filter-tip in paw, and a distant, unreadable experience in his eyes. The credit says simply: “Beckenham ‘69” Now 1969 was a strange year for Bowie. He had just been turned down by a fourth record company. His improbable, over-ambitious folk-mime trio Feathers was going nowhere. His relationship with self-styled actress Hermione Farthingale was on the skids. And his grandiose-sounding Beckenham Arts Lab – the venue where the photo was taken – was in truth just a back room of the Three Tuns boozer in Beckenham high street. It was not a great time to be the future Thin White Duke. But weird karma was afoot. He had written a song called “space oddity”, Neil Armstrong was fourth months away from sketching that crucial inaugural moonwalk. And David Bowie was five months away from making that giant step into what, in the vernacular, would be called “headfuck stardom” “I like to imagine,” suggests Brett Anderson over yet more tea “that he’s just sitting there thinking that no one quite knows yet. He looks very cool and unscrutable. I’ve always thought like that. I’ve always had a kind of romantic self-image, sitting in drab surroundings thinking of what I could possibly do.” What Brett Anderson and Suede could do is the most exciting moot point in rock music today. Depending where you’re standing, they could go any or all of the following… Become Britain’s biggest and sexiest rock band of the 1990s in record time… re-familiarise a jaded notion with glamour, sex and songwriting class on a scale not seen since Roxy Music, Marc Bolan and the finest inter-galactic hour of Bowie himself… Have a number 1 debut album in March…. Bond hedonistic and neurotic youth alike in the most-all encompassing display of life-threatening ambisexual teenage fan-worship since the heydays of the Smiths… Write some of the most beautiful songs about complete unquestioning sexual devotion since Bowie’s Lady Grinning Soul… Induct the hitherto underrated word “paracetamol” into rock’s workable vocabulary…And turn the Brighton commuter belt satellite town of Haywards Heath into the most famous British Rail Southern pitstop since Paul Weller first announced he hailed from Woking… For Suede, after two brilliant singles, years of daydreaming, and horrible upbringing in working-class nowherevilles, have it in them to be just about the most extraordinary, intelligent and potentially enormous guitar band and potentially enormous guitar band this country has seen in a decade. “There’s nothing more frustrating than knowing you’ve got all these songs that no one knows about yet” says Anderson moodily, as he leans over to the tape machine to play a song from Suede’s as yet untitled debut album. The song is a beautiful piano ballad called The Next Life, which Anderson wants to end the record. As it unfolds – and it takes a while – a scene lodges in the memory. A decrepit little Notting Hill flat. An upright piano in the corner with its front removed and all its mechanics showing in a gynaecological pre-war pianola effect. And the singer and writer of “The next life” nonchalantly sipping tea while he gazes at a 23-year old poster of David Bowie that was taken when he himself was two. “We always knew the kind of bands we’d be” states Suede’s bassist Mat Osman categorically through long, thin hair “which was an important, celebratory, huge rock band. A really old-fashioned thing. A great British rock band.”…. Somewhere in among that bizarre little lexicon, in the songs’ fantastic hooklines, in Anderson’s self belief, in the guitar playing of Bernard Butler, and in the sweaty high dram of Suede’s 1992 live shows, four putative stars have been fashioned. …….. “It’s always been a case of wanting to make pop songs that people love,” says Anderson in his slightly camp, precious twang “there’s a sense of expectancy about our record, but that’s good. I think we can live up to it. It would be dreadful thing if it was under-listened to.” He speaks fluently, confidently, his sentences building up into paragraphs of vaguely neurotic self-reference, all delivered with a bright glint in the eye. Like Morrissey, there’s a love of arcane words: “gruesome” and “drab” tend to re-appear. Unlike Morrissey, there’s no coy self-loathing, no “well, of course, I’m unloveable”. Brett Anderson seems particularly pleased with the new vistas his talent has opened up. It’s difficult to avoid comparing Suede to The Smiths. Anderson’s deliberately blurred gender references recalls Morrissey on songs like Handsome Devil and Reel Around the Mountain. (Anderson claims to be a bisexual who has yet to have a homosexual relationship). Morrissey, possibly sensing a chip of the old block here, has become a fan: he has covered “My insatiable One” live and has gushed about Suede to journalists on his autumn American tour…. The relationship between Anderson and his co-writer, guitarist Bernard Butler, too, has strong echoes of Morrissey and Marr. The singers are eloquent and witty, the guitarists are moody and aloof. And Bernard Butler is really aloof. He won’t actually talk at all. That’s pretty aloof for someone who has only two singles out. He’s quiet explicit about it. Request to Suede’s management for permission to ask him “a couple of questions” in the studio come back with a curt communique that reads “don’t bug Bernard.”… At 22, Bernard Butler is already a serious candidate for guitar hero of the next decade, a wonderfully fluid, almost bluesy musician, he dips dextrously from metallic T-Rex thrash into sympathetic sad clown texture that drip with emotion and melody. Mat Osman, a bit of a star himself on bass at it happens, calls Butler “uncanningly brilliant” “One of the most poignant thing he’s ever said” recalls Anderson “is he thinks of himself as a singer who can’t sing. He speaks through his guitar, pretty much. He definitely co-stars with me on the song. He astounds us with what he can play.”…… “The feeling of desperation in the lyrics is reflected in the music,” says Anderson approvingly “and there’s something really dark about it that I like. Those were always the kind of songs that I wanted to write – something that was incredibly emotional, but not necessarily in the normal way. Usually, something that’s emotional is quite inspiringly emotional… The recording of the album seems to be giving him a kind of ulcer of the soul. “It’s been upsetting us for quite a long time,” he says thoughtfully. “Even one duff track and it would be a failure. We don’t really have any refuge from it at all.” Suede’s roots lie in working-class, early ‘80ies Britain. The thing is, they don’t look like it, as Mat Osman ruefully concedes. “If we were the tea-drinking fops that we’re made out to be, we’d probably all be Seatle grunge chic types by now,” he reckons “I don’t think you can be interested in looking good or being glamorous without coming from the most stultifyingly boring backgrounds. And there is nowhere duller than the suburbs of London. I do think if you come from there you’re the only people left who believe in the pop dream. All of us, from the age of seven, have assumed this is what we were going to do.” Anderson seems particularly keen to stress the seediness of his roots. He claims that every single member of Suede had had a job at one time or another scrubbing toilets. He told one interviewer that when he was growing up, a raw onion was “a luxury”. He and Mat Osman grew up in Haywards Heath, near Brighton. Both were working-class. Osman was a one-parent family. “Whenever I went round there,” remembers Anderson “the place always smelled of cat piss and they were having baked beans for tea.” His own family had little money, since his mother (now dead) was an unsuccessful artist and his father was “permanently unemployed” (taxi driver, ice cream van driver), And I think probably quite unemployable as well.” His father was an “insane classical music fan” who was in the habit of taking yearly pilgrimages to Franz Liszt’s birthplace in Hungary, where he would kiss the ground and bring back some soil as a souvenir. “His three heroes are Liszt, Nelson and Churchill. And on their birthdays he puts a Union Jack outside his council house on his flagpole. That used to bug me to sh1t when I was a kid, but now I think it’s one of the greatest things ever.” Brett himself was a bit of a loner; nominally aligned to a punk gang at school, but appalled by the violence. “There is really a violent element to the school I went to. I remember once this boy got lifted up by these older kinds with a huge iron bar,…………… An early love for Crass and Discharge (he compares Feeding of the 5000 to “your first …” soon mutated into a love affair, via his big sister’s record collection, with David Bowie. Here, he was bang on tune with Mat Osman. At 16, Brett was wearing a tuxedo to school or, failing that, a “yellow Cliff Richard suit” in an effort to get the David Bowie blow-dried Let’s Dance look. He compounded the effect by dying his hair blonde and sporting a bow tie. He sang in a band called Suave and Elegant (error: they were called Geoff, they were called Suave and Elegant when the band played in London). “I was a right ponce, actually.” He says breezily. But there was fear about. Aside from the very obvious threat of a nuclear war (1983 was the year of the Cruize/Pershing crisis) – about which he used to have nightmares every night, the teenage Brett’s chief concern was to avoid getting beaten up, while Simon Gilbert, the drummer, paid the price for being the first 12-year old punk in Stratford-On-Avon in 1977 by having the shit kicked out of him on almost an hourly basis. “Me and Brett would go and see the Smiths in Brighton.” Says Osman “And you’d see rugby players down the front with their arms round each other – very strange – and you’d know that these people kissing each other’s necks were the same people who were going to beat you up on the way back to the station.” As one pledged to looking “quite chic, quite special”, Brett was an obvious target of grief “Everywhere you went, there was always the threat of someone beating you up.” He sighs “Everyone was always pushing themselves towards being some sort of sexual, potent, violent character all the time. And Suede emerged from that smog of small town violence, Anderson and Osman have been making music together since they were “about 14”. Early catastrophes were survived (one prototype demo is voted “a horrible twee perfect pop piece of crap” by Brett now) and when they pocked up Butler through an NME ad (which actually did say: “No musos”), they knew that they were on to something. Osman and Anderson maintain that they’ve known since age 16 that they would be in a shudderingly successful and very brilliant band.” They (moved to London and) went on to record their first single “Be my god/art” (produced by Mike Joyce) in 1990. The band in those days was Anderson, his girlfriend Justine on guitar (who inspired the name of the band after a laundrette in Stoke Newington), Butler and Osman (and drum machine). They were “unripe musically”. They needed a drummer. So they advertised for a temporary one. “And Mike Joyce walked in” laughs Anderson incredulously “He just randomly answered the ad. One of the most incredible things ever to happen to us. It was like Jim’ll Fix. A beautiful guy, though. He was so helpful.”. The single never materialised (it’s the one named above which was printed but not distributed), hence the legal wrangling with the label boss, who apparently thinks now is the suitable time – and suede embarked on the long and painful process of becoming famous by playing gigs. “We were useless.” Says Anderson. And they were despised. Gigs throughout 1990 and into 1991 were a mixture of catcall cacophonies and silence, as audiences were trying to get their collective heads round a bunch of mincing glam primadonnas in crimplene, fronted by a seriously overdoing-it limpwrist warbling untold perversions in music-hall cockernee. (estuary english) But they were learning. Bernard Butler was brilliant anyway, and Anderson’s writing was showing signs of a definite peculiar skill. All they needed was to work as a songwriting partnership. (Meanwhile Justine left the band) One day they got it right. And they swear the glam rock sound is wholly accidental. “Well,” sighs Anderson “We’re a guitar band, and that’s the accidental sound we’ve arrived at. We’ve grown up playing venues where you have to be blatant about what you do. I think a lot of glam music was quite blatant, quite teenage, and that’s the accident we’ve arrived at. There were a lot of definite points made in the 70ies and recent guitar music has tended to be very obscure. We do have a desire not to sound like that, I guess.” Osman is more forthright: “I came from a background where any excitement or any degree of extremity came through records. If you took me when I was 13 or 14 and said. Show me something glamorous, sexually bizarre and talented, I’d have pointed you to my Bowie records. And if you listen to it every day for five years, it’s imprinted in your memory cells. You can’t help it. Your fingers move that way. It feels right. Mat Osman is shooting pool in the studio kitchen. A quick appraisal of his physique, haircut and attire conforms that, sure enough, this man could walk into Mott the Hoople circa Honaloochie Boogie. “Hmm” he considers “I just can’t understand the way they’re always singing about being in Mott the Hoople and how awful it is. Incredibly arrogant. Mind you, give us 10 years and it’ll probably be the most meaningful music I’ve ever heard.” Bernard Butler is nowhere to be seen, ferociously avoiding those who might bug him. Simon Gilbert is trying to persuade Brett to reconsider his power of veto on one of the songs tentatively lined up for the album. But the veto is such that if one member of Suede isn’t happy with the song, it gets dropped immediately, so – out it goes. “I have high expectations.” Grimaces Osman over a tricky cannon “I think there is a curse of low expectations in British music at the moment. The curse of the mediocre – oh, it’ll do. The march of the average. Well, no, it won’t bloody do.” Photo: Paul Rider. Review by xavier www.pafpaf.org : released by nude records/ epic 1992 uk Suede » serait-il une nouvelle illustration de ce postulat selon lequel les grandes réussites, les grands albums sont le fait de rencontres marquantes, de confrontations novatrices ? En restant en Angleterre, on se souvient que David Bowie et Mick Ronson avaient été identifiés comme tels, Morrissey et Johnny Marr également. C’est précisément sur ces deux bases, on ne peut plus recommandables, que Suede nous avait été introduit en 1993. Suede, c’est d’abord le charme de l’esthète Brett Anderson : des vocalises passionnées et romantiques, des mimiques de scène maniérées mais juste ce qu’il faut pour ne pas tomber dans le pompeux, des emprunts au glam dans son côté théâtral mais en laissant de côté les bouclettes, le maquillage et les déguisements. Suede, c’est aussi toute la virtuosité du guitariste Bernard Butler : des rythmiques, des solos, des arpèges le tout baignant dans un subtil dosage d’effets du type flanger, fuzz ou e-bow. Sacré boulot d’enregistrement mais aussi sacré boulot en concert quand on sait qu’il fait ça sans aide. Aux postes de bassiste et batteur, Mat Osman et Simon Gilbert portent le fertile duo avec justesse et assiduité. Ce premier album aligne de puissants hymnes rock - « Animal Nitrate », « Metal Mickey », « Animal Lover » - sur lesquels Anderson contribue à forger des refrains particulièrement entraînants à l’aide d’une très juste maîtrise du tambourin. Le disque propose également des titres comme « Pantomime Horse », « Sleeping Pills » ou encore « Breakdown », plus calmes, plus noirs mais tout aussi prenants. Enfin, non content de placer ses terribles talents de guitariste, Butler s’offre deux parties de piano - « So Young », « The Next Life ». C’est grâce à cette première œuvre éponyme que Suede posera, en premier, les fondements de la touche Brit Pop - même si les Stones Roses avaient déjà pas mal déblayé le terrain. De nombreux artistes d’influences plus diverses s’engouffreront dans cette brèche en cristallisant le mouvement, établissant ainsi des carrières durables - Supergrass, The Boo Radleys, Oasis, Blur. Mais dans ce contexte de début des années 1990 où le grunge fait rage outre Atlantique, c’est bien Suede qui, en Angleterre, tient la barre de la pop à tel point que ce disque a été, sur certaines éditions, baptisé symboliquement « The London Suede »... suede album - released by nude records/ epic 1992 uk - review by xavier paf-paf fr. - translation: radioevropa zebras54 2004 Suede would this be a new illustration of this postulate: the great successes, the great albums are the result of marking encounters, innovative confrontations? Staying in England, we remember that David Bowie and Mick Ronson were identified as such, Morrissey and Johnny Marr as well. The album Suede was introduced to us on precisely these two bases, - which could not come more recommended. Suede it is first the charm of the aesthete Brett Anderson: passionate and romantic vocalises, mannered mimicry on stage but just enough not into the pompous, borrowings of glam from the theatrical side but leaving aside curly locks, make up and disguises. Suede it is also the virtuosity of guitar player Bernard Butler: rhythms, soli, arpegio - all of this bathing in a subtle dosage of flanger, fuzz or e-bow. What a heck of a recording, but also what a heck of concert when it is known that he does so without help. Posted as bass-player and drummer, Mat Osman and Simon Gilbert bring accuracy and assiduity to the inspired duo. This first album lines up powerful rock anthems - "Animal Nitrate", "Metal Mickey", "Animal Lover" on which Anderson contributes to forge particularly catching choruses with the help of a very accurately mastered tambourine. The record also offers titles like "Pantomime Horse", "Sleeping Pills" or else "Breakdown" which are calmer, darker but as much catching. Finally, not happy enough only to place his amazing talents as a guitar player, Butler treats himself with two parts on piano "So young" and "The next life" it is thanks to this first eponymous work that suede, as the first band, put the foundations of the Brit Pop touch - even though the Stone Roses had quite cleared the site. Many artists with various influences would go through this opening by crystalising the movement, thus establishing long lasting careers - Supergrass, the Boo Radley, Oasis, Blur. But, in this context of the beginning of the nineties where grunge was all the rage beyond the Atlantic, it is very much Suede who in England, held the level of pop so high that this record was on edition symbolically baptised "The London Suede".  lyrics: brett anderson music: bernard butler i was born as a pantomime horse ugly as the sun when he falls to the floor i was cut from the wreckage one day this is what i get for being that way well did you ever, did you ever go round with them? well did you ever, did you ever go round the bend? i was conned by a circus hand tragic as the son of a superman "i would die for the starsî she said this is what i get for my beautiful head well did you ever, did you ever go round with them? well did you ever, did you ever go round the bend? . . . ever tried it that way, have you ever tried it that way? dog man starreleased 10th october 1994 nude records formats: lp/mc/cd (nude3lp/mc/cd) 01 introducing the band 02 we are the pigs 03 heroine 04 the wild ones 05 daddy's speeding 06 the power 07 new generation 08 this hollywood life 09 the 2 of us 10 black or blue 11 the asphalt world 12 still life members of the band: Brett Anderson (voc, lyrics), Bernard Butler (music, guitar, some arrangements, some piano), Mat Osman (bass), Simon Gilbert (drums) Produced by Ed Buller, guest musicians: London Sinfonia lyrics: brett anderson music: bernard butler there was a girl who flew the world from a lonely shore through southern snow to heathrow to understand the law there was a boy who loved the noise of the underground he left the coast and overdosed on that london sound he said, "i don't care if you're black or blue me and the stars stay up for you i don't care who's wrong or right and i don't care for the uk tonight so stay, stay" and then one day she moved away from those garden walls she left some flowers, he smoked for hours she understood the law i don't care if you're black or blue me and the stars stay up for you i don't care who's wrong or right and i don't care for the uk tonight so stay, stay, stay, stay there was a girl who flew the world article: Andrew Collins, Q Magazine And those shoes, Brett Anderson’s footwear is battered and gaping; he constantly picks at the stitching, whose valiant attempt at holding the leather flaps into shoe-shape will soon be over. The hems of his trouser legs have been taken up and hand sewn on the inside, a party to which no iron was invited. The word scruffy simply doesn’t suffice. For a band seen as fashion plates, style gurus, trend setters, Suede are a delightfully, shabby bunch. For all claims of flamboyance and camp, Suede sport a very sensible shoe, as it were. Perhaps this is another part of their charm, a cherishably dog-eared ordinariness. ](Mat) Osman, no slouch in crap V-neck thermal and a pinstripe jacket he’s had on since the first gulf war opines, “I’ve always liked vain people. We live in seriously unflashy times. I like people who stand up to be ridiculed.” Talking to Q (Andrew Collins) two days later in BBC’s Maida Vale studios (they are live on Emma Freud’s Radio One show) Anderson clarifies the difference between how they look and what they do: “If you want to call me some stupid fop, or a ponce, that’s fine – but just listen to the music. The music is much better than our image. Our image is shit. We don’t really have one.” “We’re Suede. And we are back.” Anderson’s first words as he mounts the bonsai stage at Raw, couldn’t have been better chosen, heading off at the pass all those ambulance chasers who would have happily seen Suede fail in their darkest days thus far. It didn’t happen. Dog Man Star, unleashed to ecstatic reviews is according to Brett Anderson, “three times better” than the debut. Suede who has now sold a quarter of a million. (“there were some big flaws on the first album, looking back I wouldn’t have had Moving or Animal Lover on it”) Osman says “10 times better”. It’s a lot better. And it had to be. When “Suede” was released in March 1993, the vultures were already checking their callendars for the Suede backlash. But it never came. Suede never once lost their cool, unless you count Stay Together (the first single after the album) only entering the charts at Number 2. The front covers kept on piling up, as did the odds against them. “I don’t know why people hate us so much” ponders Anderson “Maybe because we are in their faces.” He tells a tale of a rep from their record label Nude going into Tower Records to check on the sales of the new LP and a thoroughly fed-up assistant reporting: “Suede, Suede, Suede and more bloody Suede”. “There is this theory that we couldn’t have failed, which is absolute twaddle. It would’ve been so, so easy for it to have all crumbled.” The exact details of Butler’s departure are still veiled in mystery. He’s been AWOL ever since, and apocryphally at least, his first post Suede “project” with former All About Eve singer Juliette Regan ended when, one morning, she walked into the collaboratory studio in France and decided “Oh, I get it. You’re the Anti-Christ” and exited, stage left. His reputed response was “I’m not the Anti-Christ, I’m Bernard.”  http://www.goldenfleece.u-net.com/ents/archives/library/gigs/butler.jpg It would be fanciful to suggest that Dog Man Star’s high drama and bold excess were fuelled by internal tension between Sir Anti-Christford and the rest of Suede, but at least he was professsional enough to finish the work before he hopped it. On its making, (Simon) Gilbert enthuses: “They talk about difficult second albums; this was easier than the first one. Well… at the beginning it was. And at the end… the very end.” At any rate, it seems agreed that the finished product is a towering testament to Anderson, Butler, Osman and Gilbert – Suede Mark 1. If Dog Man Star’s music is the sound of a door being closed for good, then Anderson’s lyrics are its written guarantee. Suede are a going concern. These words, sometimes ridiculous, sometimes alarming, conjure a netherworld where nuclear threat is rife, a peculiar urban squalor patched up with postcards brought from Athena in 1981. Brando, Monroe and Dean are its heroes; pigs, blood, drugs, and concrete its hard reality. (He knows that James Dean as an icon in the song “Daddy’s speeding is “utter cliché” but defends the usage as a snook cocked to all those Suede watchers who still expect cosy British themes: “They’re better songs than if they’d been about Dad’s Army) Anderson’s sixth sense for dirt and depravity is obviously linked with his well documented appetite for drugs. He regrets being so frank in interview and yet his lyrics give him away (“I need my heroines/aching, being dying for hours, and “I supply her with ecstasy) “Some of the things I say in interview must sound really crappy” he admits “I can’t help it, I am crappy sometimes. Who really gives a shit if someone takes drugs? Everyone takes them anyway. I only mention it because it’s as much part of my life as sitting here drinking coffee.” 
But not everyone takes drugs. The majority of Suede fans don’t take drugs. “No? Perhaps you get a distorted image living in the city. But even people in the sticks do cider and cigarettes.” …. As they storm Raw in (relative) secret, it still feels like Suede belong to “us”, whoever “we” are. (…) “People are always going to think that this band is just about to fall apart.” Concludes Osman “I look at people like R.E.M. and Paul Weller and sometimes I’m really jealous of the goodwill they generate. People were desperate for that R.E.M. album to be good. It’s never going to be like that for us; there are always going to be huge gangs of masked men with baseball caps waiting for us. Come on, fuck up, fuck up! It’s always one crisis after the other…  lyrics: brett anderson music: bernard butler i wake up every day to find her back again screaming my name through the astral plane and in this catalogue town she takes me down down through the platinum spires down through the telephone wires and we shake it around in the underground and like a new generation rise and like all the boys in all the cities i take the poison, take the pity but she and i, we soon discovered we'd take the pills to find each other oh but when she is calling here in my head can you hear her calling and what she has said? oh but when she is calling here in my head it's like a new generation calling can you hear it call? and i'm losing myself, losing myself to you i wake up every day, to find her back again breeding disease on her hands and knees while the styles turn and the books still burn yes it's there in the platinum spires it's there in the telephone wires and we spread it around to a techno sound but like a new generation rise cos like all the boys in all the cities i take the poison, take the pity but she and i we soon discover we take the pills to find each other oh but when she is calling here in my head can you hear her calling? and what she has said? oh but when she is calling here in my head it's like a new generation calling can you hear her call? and i'm losing myself, losing myself to you 
The Sound Of McAlmont & Butler(Hut CD, 1995) David McAlmont: vocals, lyrics Bernard Butler: guitars, music, arrangements, producer Makoto Sakamoto: drums Mike Tedder: Bass Jimmy Gallagher: Saxophone on "Disappointment" Helen Turner: Piano Gini Ball, Ann Stephenson, Johnny Taylor, Jote Osahn: Violins Clare Orsler, Joss Pook: Violas Mike Hedgers: Producer Nigel Godrich: sound engineer photography: Gered Mankowitz and John Cheves, sleeve by Blue Source recorded at RAK, Chateau de la Rouge, Bernie'sButtons, Greenhouse Studios, some tracks mixed at Shahbang CDHUT32, Yes (Full Version), What's The Excuse This Time?, The Right Thing, Although, Don't Call It Soul , Disappointment/Interval, The Debitor, How About You?, Tonight, You'll Lose A Good Thing, You Do (Full Version) 'Yes' and You Do' produced by Bernard Butler and Mike Hedges. All else produced by Bernard Butler. All songs written by McAlmont/Butler, except 'You'll Lose A Good Thing' by Ozen/Meaux. Click on a song titles for images of handwritten lyrics for some songs. Note: This album is a collection of the 'Yes' and 'You Do' EPs plus an additional song, 'The Right Thing'. lyrics: David McAlmont Music: Bernard Butler So you wanna know me now How I've been You can't help someone recover After what you did So tell me am I looking better? Have you forgot Whatever it was that you couldn't stand About me about me about me? Because... Yes I do feel better Yes I do I feel alright I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got To offer You wanna know me now How I've been You can't help someone recover After what you did So tell me am I looking better? Have you forgot Whatever it was that you couldn't stand About me about me about me? Because... Yes I do feel better Yes I do I feel alright I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got to offer Because... Yes I do feel better Yes I do I feel alright I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got To offer On and on and on and on and on and on and has no-one said... Stay away, stay away... I'm better Ye-ea-ea-ea--YES! Ye-ea-ea-ea--YES! Ye-ea-ea-ea--YES! Ye-ea-ea-ea--YES! I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got I feel well enough to tell you what you can do with what you got... Read Review of The Sound Of...McAlmont & Butler - McAlmont & Butl... Review Summary About the Author Lambchops Loves McAlmont and Butler Mar 11 '03 Author's Product Rating Pros The songs are brilliant, the vocals are amazing, absolutely appealing melodies Cons Nada. Zero. Zilch. The Bottom Line What are you waiting for? The Sound of McAlmont and Butler ranks among the best albums of the 1990's of any genre. Full Review Bernard Butler might be best known as the original (guitarist) for the well respective British band rock/Brit-pop band Suede, but he later returned to the scene first with underground soul star David McAlmont and later on his own solo terms. Butler’s work with McAlmont and Butler was a complete departure from the catchy, brilliant rock of the first two Suede releases. Not to say that his mid-career work was bad…much on the contrary the two albums released in conjunction with McAlmont were an inspired combination of soul, rock, and of course Brit-pop. While maybe not as easily assimilated the sound was overall very appealing on a completely different level. McAlmont and Butler came together officially in 1995 and during the time until the quick breakup, just one album was quietly released (the second came in 2002 and was titled Bring It Back). David McAlmont came his closest to achieving fame with his teaming with Butler. In the mid-1990’s he recorded and released his eponymous debut (actually chronologically preceded by almost unknown Thieves project), a show of his vocal style and did little to embrace his overall appeal. McAlmont was greeted with resounding support when he teamed with Butler. The Sound of McAlmont and Butler is not a proper studio album. Rather, it is a near-brilliant collection of drops, blurbs, and incidentals. The two came together to record experimental, appealing, and exuberant pop/rock with a distinct turn toward soul. They accomplished their initial goal and in the end surpassed all expectation…regardless of the album’s intentions. A succinct, glorious, inspired combination of the best elements of David Bowie, Suede, and Lenny Kravitz is soul-rock with a heart of gold. Life since experiencing McAlmont and Butler will never be the same. The two have created a veritable masterpiece as equally appealing to rock and Brit-pop fans and listeners of soul. It is modern and challenging, yet somehow also as comfortable as your favorite sweatshirt. McAlmont and Butler are indeed masters of their art. They are rich and lovely singers and equally as impressive songwriters. Any artist or collection of artists who is able to so perfectly assemble an album deserves all of the riches of the musical world both emotionally and monetarily. Such is the case with this duo. Butler obviously injected every last drop of blood, sweat, tears, and most of all love into every note, word, vocal track, and song of this album. This is the direction he intended for Suede, and as such this is an extension of his earlier work especially reflective in earlier songs like Stay Together. But in working with McAlmont, Butler was granted a measure of freedom. His name wasn’t incredibly well known (especially stateside) yet he is obviously an amazing talent. It is impossible to rave too much about The Sound of McAlmont and Butler. It is the type of release that must be heard to be understood and for that matter believed. Consisting of just eleven songs, the 1995 Hut release is pleasing on every aural level. Listeners will find themselves lifted to emotional heights rarely reached by way of music. There are no weak songs, no problematic melodies, no unfriendly vocals…this album is the most flawless variety of perfection. Considering the overall excellence of this album, it is challenging to discuss favorites. It seems unfair to the duo and to these incredible songs to say that one is better than another. All are appealing on a mainstream level while none assumes idiots populate the audience. All are intensely emotional while none requires the listener to stock Kleenexes. McAlmont and Butler are consistently impressive and absolutely scrumptious…The Sound of McAlmont and Butler is a brilliant album to fall in love to, an album to file next to the likes of future classics like the aforementioned Suede in addition to other lesser known acts like Eels, Jim White, Neutral Milk Hotel, and Grandaddy. Few albums and even fewer bands can aspire to such towering heights. McAlmont and Butler need not aspire…they reached it on their first haphazard outing. The album begins strongly with the excellent single Yes. Butler’s vocals soar majestically above a chorus, light percussion and a memorable melody. Still unconvinced about the inherent worth of this album? Look no further than the McAlmont-fronted second track, What’s the Excuse This Time. With the first lightly funky beats followed immediately by McAlmont’s classically resonant voice, prepare yourself to be both amazed and entertained. He packs the song with a surprising amount of fervor, so much that it proves impossible not to feel the pop-soul groove to from the tip of your toes through the base of your spine and oozing out your scalp. His relaxed, Prince meets Al Green meets Lenny Kravitz style come through wonderfully. Not to mention the fact that the lyrics are infectious pop: You oughta give me something [you said you would] Am I impatient, are you taking your time [You spoke about it, you talked about it] But I still can’t see what it’s supposed to be I never asked for much in my life I’ve always managed to pass things by But promises are promises So tell me now, What’s the excuse this time McAlmont and Butler continue down their short path to greatness with the vaguely dark but still wondrous The Right Thing. Vocals paired with a slide guitar and a touch of Ziggy Stardust era David Bowie make for a driving, intelligent track. Even a little Lou Reed seeps through the understated, dark chords. While not as immediately accessible as other songs the true brilliance of the twosome comes to fruition on the less pop-oriented songs. Not to say there’s anything wrong with tracks like Yes, but there is something for everybody on this disc. The time passes quickly despite most songs clocking in somewhere between four and six minutes. Although is a modest, emotional love song. McAlmont croons with the best of him about love and subsequent loss. The modern soul vibe with Don’t Call It Soul. Driven by technically perfect slide guitar and acoustic guitar it cements the album in minds as nothing less than flawless. Grandiose, driving, and at its heart blues-rock, Disappointment once again sparks with evocative musicianship and vibrant vocals. It doesn’t resonate in quite the same way as some of the other tracks, but with that said it is still absolutely worth hearing. There’s nothing about this album that will even near dissatisfaction. The Debitor is a big, wild bluesy rock track. A clap-along anthem, it is one of the most obviously appealing of the entire disc. Though, it isn’t as poppy as Yes or immediately unrelenting as What’s the Excuse This Time it does move at a great pace and include elements not generally associated with the genre. Expect a shock when the occasional electronic whir and British savoir-faire are expertly injected. How About You returns to a formula blending the ballad with the Bowie glam. But as interpreted by McAlmont and Butler it comes off as something completely different…by no means retro or a throwback, this is a gorgeous soul-rock offering. The final three songs wrap The Sound of McAlmont and Butler up gracefully. They do draw on techniques and patterns explored earlier on the album, but they do so without sounding like they are stuck in a rut or put on repeat. Tonight is a classic, gorgeous slow rock track. You’ll Lose a Good Thing is the only song here not written by McAlmont and Butler. Marked lightly by an organ, the song is driven by most notably by McAlmont’s splendid voice. Previous interpretations of the Meaux/Owen song have been recorded by Freddy Fender, Aretha Franklin, Barbara Lynn among many others. But the British duo does something special, something amazing with the song, something that makes it one of the most breathtaking things of the genuinely wonderful album. A viola, violin, flute and light guitar surround Do You, the epic capstone of this incomparable album. It sweeps through time, grasps the heart, massages the soul with pain and concern. But as with all other things on The Sound of McAlmont and Butler the appeal of the song is rooted in what is obviously a diving pairing. This song, this album, and both David McAlmont and Bernard Butler have proven beyond any semblance of doubt that they are here to stay and that their unique blend of music deserves to be heard.  The Sound of McAlmont and Butler transcends time and place. It is a piece of soul as interpreted by a truly gifted soul vocalist and a Brit-pop legend. Believe it or not, both Butler and McAlmont can be appreciated by most everybody willing to open their minds and heart. This is a special album, a truly incredible piece of art that will unquestionable wedge itself into any collection. Go. Now. Buy The Sound of McAlmont and Butler. Rating: 5/5 stars Recommended Yes Comments on this Review http://www.epinions.com/content_92555611780 music: Bernard Butler lyrics Bernard Butler, People move onapril 1998 (Creation/Columbia)Recorded at Abbey Road in 1997  List of songs: 1 Woman I Know (7:51) / 2 You Just Know (4:39) / 3 People Move On (4:39) / 4 A Change of Heart (4:40) / 5 Autograph (8:45) / 6 You Light the Fire (3:53) / 7 Not Alone (3:51) / 8 When You Grow (5:25) / 9 You've Got What It Takes (4:50) / 10 Stay (5:15) / 11 In Vain (4:55) / 12 I'm Tired (4:54)/ Go play safe, fly low. for the sake of all you have known. Throw your staff down from the citadel and run away. He won't laugh at what you said he's got a princess to impress. Got no boat, plane or place to go - just the rain. And people move on, move along, people move on... move along There's a man that follows me down the street, holding roses for all the girls he meets. And his hair curls down to his feet (he gives me the creeps). He'll take the wind from your sails, quoting Jesus - hands on the Kells. But his words usually fail, to move me that way. People move on, move along, people move on... just gotta keep moving on. So go play safe, fly low, for the sake of all you have known. Throw your staff down from the citadel, and run away. “This is about the time when I sold papers in Leicester Square. You see a lot of people walking by. You get snapshots, impressions, and snatches of conversation from homeless people, rugby fans going down the Hippodrome. You’d see a lot of these people later on that night in different states from earlier on. I’d be standing there with my walkman on just watching everybody”.(Bernard Butler to NME, April 1998) Bernard Butler was born in 1970 in Stamford Hill, London. He grew up in a working class Anglo-Irish family, in the song above he describes the mood he was whilst doing his paper rounds as a teenager. He was listening to what became known as school disco music, and alternative music which was championed by the late John Peel programme on radio1. The first single he bought was on account of that programme, and started an admiration for music by The Smiths and a later musical friendship with Johnny Marr. Johnny Marr’s style on his trademark cherry red gibson owes as much to cross-over blues-folk bands like Pentangle as to Chic’s mixture of rock n roll and soul. Bernard joined Suede in 1991, after reading an advert in the Melody Maker signed by Brett looking for musicians who were into “The Smiths, Cocteau Twins, Beatles and The Smiths – No musos”. Bernard found the reference about the Smiths as interesting as the “No Musos” bit. The band wanted to write and perform guitar pop songs spanning the range of “glam crunch” sound to singer-songwriting songs on piano. Bernard after writing the music of first album Suede and the follow up Dog Man Star before left the band over musical differences revolving around the choice of producer. After that he played guitar with a few solo artists, notably Edwyn Collins, the former lead singer of Orange Juice, who shares with Bernard an admiration for rock n roll and soul, and the song structure. His first proper album was recorded under the band name McAlmont&Butler with singer David McAlmont and drummer Mako Sakamoto, producer Nigel Godrich and was called “The sound of McAlmont&Butler” (1995). As David McAlmont aptly put it in 2002 the music can be best called “Rock n roll soup”. It is a mixture between reflective singer-songwriting material and sweeping pop music backed by orchestra, reminding us of material by Phil Spector. “With people move on” Bernard Butler takes on vocal duties, and here again, there are introspective singer-songwriter songs next to sweeping rock n roll soup full orchestra arrangements. Some reviewers have accused the album of being incoherent and Bernard’s voice not to be strong enough to carry some songs. If we take the approach that this is a album with songs that could all be singles, and that Bernard is a John Peel kid, then both comments make a positive sense. This is a record which has its roots in ambitious alternative pop/rockn roll. There is no need to write concept albums, or perhaps there is an ambition to write an album with no fillers. This album reminds me sometimes of Edwyn Collins’ work on "Gorgeous George" who also likes to write his songs on acoustic and write a version of them with orchestra. Bernard shows that in order to sing soulful songs you don’t necessarily need what some radio station call “a blue eyed soul voice” or a croon. This is an approach which can be found in Elvis Costello’s works, like Bernard, Elvis Costello also has an admiration for Elvis Presley. All this places “People move on” in its time, the nineties, and it sounds fresh, innovative and accessible. The lyrics are as introspective as proof of social observation. The choice of antequated vocabulary can be found in many songs by the Smiths and I also remember Bernard’s interest with history. A mixture of musical influences and originality, this is a well-rounded ambitious alternative guitar-pop record with a lot of soul. Allmusic.com is a website that likes describing moods of albums, and here are their suggestions and later, a review by Thomas Erlewine. Ambitious Elaborate Yearning Searching Lush Reflective Wistful Sweet Rollicking Trippy Laid-Back/ Mellow Amiable/ Good-Natured Sophisticated Earnest Melancholy Reverent Guitar Should I tell you why I feel so down When all I've carried for days is the same old doubts? Well I'd tell you if I'd had a plan Only you're one of those with your head in the sand While I don't feel so afraid Maybe this is just some kind of phase But I don't care about the wind in my face Cos I'm not alone, these days No, I'm not alone, these days, yes I'm not alone, these days No, I'm not alone, these days, yes Could I tell you how I hear those sounds? Well I've been roaming the streets With my head in the clouds And I won't need to show you my heart Cos all I need in my hands is an electric guitar Well I thought that you understood That friends like these won't ever do me no good Cos I have never know the people I should But I'm not alone, these days No, I'm not alone, these days, yes I'm not alone, these days No, I'm not alone, these days, yea yea yea yeah No, I'm not alone, these days No, I'm not alone, these days, yes I'm not alone, these days No, I'm not alone, these days, yes I'm not alone (Well I just thought that you could), these days (I just thought that you should) No, I'm not alone (Sometimes you would), these days (Stay with me) Misunderstood (I just thought that you know) I'm not alone (I just hope that you do), these days (I just wanted you to stay with me) Misunderstood Maybe I misunderstood Maybe I misunder... Maybe I misunderstood Review by Stephen Thomas Erlewine for allmusic.com People Move On suffers from a problem common to solo albums — now that the artist is freed from the confines of his group, he is compelled to show that he can do it all on his own. Since Bernard Butler has always traded in major statements, this flaw hurts him less than others, but it still prevents People Move On from being the tour de force it was intended to be. Part of the problem is Butler's thin, wispy voice, which often sounds like it's straining to hit the notes. On the gentle acoustic numbers, it can be convincing, but it hardly sells the sweeping, cinematic songs. "Woman I Know," "You Just Know," "Not Alone" and "Stay" are so busy they barely make sense. All the overdubbed backing vocals, keyboards and guitars sound disassociated from each other, adding up to awkward attempts at grand statements that fall flat. He's much better at the quieter moments, such as "You've Got What It Takes" and "You Light the Fire." These moments of introspection are what give People Move On weight, and what make it a promising solo debut.  NME put a tape together with some of the songs recorded during an acoustic performance in April 1998. It is called “Bernard Butler the garage tapes” – and it gave Bernard the chance to introduce himself and his new album: “The thing is with those shows is that no-one in the audience knew how the album sounded, so this was their first indication. It’s not some folky thing, it’s just how the record was written and I want people to see these songs in a different light. “By playing them acoustically, people get to feel the intimacy of the songs and it's a good opportunity for me to train my voice. How the songs appear on the NME tape is how the songs were written – just me and an acoustic guitar. But it’s only the first stage. I’ve been putting a band together, and I’m very excited about it. Where “Yes” and the McAlmont stuff was all written at home with a multi-track with everything sorted in advance, the songs on people move on were just done at home with an acoustic guitar. That way it gave me more time to spend on singing and working out the lyrics. The arrangements and everything else came in the studio. “When woman I know” is played acoustically it’s got a country feel, but on the record it’s really different. I could go out on the road and do it with a gospel choir. “Stay” … like “People move on” is about change. The process of change is hard when you’ve got to do it. It’s about when you know you’ve got to do something but there’s an element of risk….  more info at bernard butler website bernard butler - friends and loverscreation/columbia - CRECD248Recorded Winter 1998/99 written and produced by Bernard Butler recorded at RAK, Konk, Chipping Norton - engineered by George Shilling mastered by Howie Weinberg at Masterdisk NYC, drums and percussion: Makoto Sakamoto bass: Chris Bowers keyboard: Terry Miles Background vocals and harmonies: The Terence Miles Trio some bass by Billy McGhee Cello by Gonzo Lagonda illustrations by Jasper Goodall Design and art direction by Noel Thompson at Yacht Associates 1) friends and lovers 2) I'd do it again if I could 3) Cocoon 4) Smile 5) You must go on 6) No easy way Out 7) Everyone I know is falling out 8) What happened to me 9) let's go away 10) precious 11) has your mind got away 12) you'll feel it when you are mine  http://www.bernardbutler.com/live/fuji/fujimovies.html You can't look back But you can look on ahead There's no sense of ease No-one to please But you carry on You can't look so sad You can't look down your nose There's nothing to believe No use in being But you carry on So cherish the days When we searched for caves And paddled our feet In the mid-day heat Your mother would scream If she heard you'd been Well it's just as well we carry on and on and... This can't look so bad Just cos you're on your own again You're losing sleep You don't know how to breathe But you carry on You can't look back You can look on ahead There's nothing to believe All you do is weep But you carry on So cherish the days When we searched for caves And paddled our feet Out on the heath My mother would scream If she heard you'd been Well it's just as well as we carry on and on and... On and on On and on On and on On and on and on and on and... On and on You must go on You must go on You must go on and on and on and... On and on You must go on You must go on You must go on and on and on and... On and on Bernard Butler: Going On, Getting Better Sep 29 '03 (Updated Sep 29 '03) Author's Product Rating Pros Good songs, good melodies, improved productions... Cons Still weak vocally, some "sameness" issues... The Bottom Line A much improved solo effort, Friends and Lovers is a worthy purchase. Full Review Coming off of the success of his work with Suede, Bernard Butler had some pretty big shoes to fill. Unfortunately with his 1998 debut People Move On little was accomplished in furthering his career. That album was too ambitious and too highly produced for the kind of music it contained. So when it came to picking up Butler’s second solo effort, Friends and Lovers, I was hoping that the talented guitarist and decently adept singer would be able to bounce back from the brink of embarrassment. And he did—with the much simpler and much more straightforward 2000 release. It is, without question, the superior of his two solo efforts to date but still pales in comparison to the work he did with Suede and to his work with David McAlmont. Friends and Lovers is chock full of the straight ahead glam-space pop-rock that made Suede successful. Butler, a fiercely independent musician, manages to wear the hat of producer, writer, performer, and singer. And overall it comes off well. Of course, there are problems with Friends and Lovers. Not in the songs really, but in the fact that little proves exciting or particularly noteworthy. Friends and Lovers is on the whole absolutely easy to listen to and even much of the second half is “samey” I can’t help but enjoy much of what the perfectionist put to tape. My favorite songs are among the first few in the track listing (with an exception or two). Friends & Lovers, I’d Do It Again If I Could, You Must Go On, No Easy Way Out and Has Your Mind Got Away? are the clear standouts. Most of what I like here happens to be the fast, kinetic, and of the toe-tapping variety with exceptions to No Easy Way Out and the truly ambitious and absolutely successfully sweeping Has Your Mind Got Away? Even as I say I like those two slower offerings, I wholly believe that it will be the catchier tracks that will get and hold the attention of listeners. For example, my favorite song is I’d Do It Again It If I Could. Why? Well, merely one listen proves rewarding. The song itself is neatly and intelligently produced without being heavy-handed (as was the issue with the whole of people move on). The guitars are thick and stocked with melody. And finally, I can’t help but mention that the song is fitting to Butler’s sometimes weak voice. Not just that—but it’s not challenging. I’d Do It Again If I Could is fun, easy, and lively. It possesses all the good things that go into having a hit single. And fortunate for Butler there are other similarly successful songs here. For many of the same reasons I like title track and album opener Friends & Lovers. It is funky, strange, a full of whirring and whizzing production that lends itself well to the overall tone without overwhelming Butler’s boyish voice. Between the first two songs the album really began strongly. And there are a few other flashes of this brilliance. Most notably successful are the mid-tempo piano-driven glam rocker You Must Go On and the thoughtful ballad No Easy Way Out. Overall, Friends and Lovers is a good album. While I have to admit that there are downfalls especially when it comes to the aforementioned “sameness” and it occasionally becoming predictable and even boring (yes—it is true) the album is a major step in the right direction for Butler’s solo career. Good enough for me. Rating: 4/5 stars http://www.epinions.com/content_114079993476 words and music: Bernard Butler You and I've got something caught between our eyes A figure of fun and a teller of lies You and I need nothing more to taint our lives Would I do it to you? Well I'll do it this time I'd do it again if I could I'd do it again if you told me I should I'd do it again for you my love Follow me and I'll do it again You and I feel nothing - we're anaesthetised When you've got no shame you've got nothing to hide Just one click of your heels and I'd lend you my soul Would I do it for you? Well I do what I'm told I'd do it again if I could I'd do it again if you told me I should I'd do it again for you my love Follow me and I'll do it again http://www.angelfire.com/indie/bernardbutler/fl_lyrics.html |
Interview by Craig Peacock © 1999 the bernard butler website. Not to be reproduced without permission. The interview below was conducted on the eve of the UK release of the 'Friends and Lovers' album. Bernard had just given a blinding performance at the Fuji Rock Festival in northern Japan and completed filiming for the 'You Must Go On' video. Here's what he had to say about the previous year and the new songs... bb.com: I'd like to start by going back to last year as 1998 was indeed a big year for you in more ways than one. What were the professional and personal high points? bernard: Professionally, it was just getting the record out. That was the biggest single thing. There are many more things that I can think of, but the most pleasing was seeing the record released. At that point I let out a huge sigh of relief and it felt very much like a beginning. The first album was quite eclectic and it went in different directions and that was fine as I wanted it to be that way. In fact I knew it had to be that way. It was, however, touch and go at certain points as to whether I was going to get to to finish it and more importantly, whether people were going to accept me doing it. I did feel quite paranoid about not being accepted. Now I don't really give a shit because I think I got through it. If I hear the record now I think "great, I'm glad I did that", but I don't really want to make another record like that again. There are of course other things that I can point to things like when 'Stay' came out and it started to do really well on the radio. That was really exciting because it seemed like there was a real buzz in England about it and it was a very different record from many of the others that were out at time. lt was quite exciting to think such a different record, an almost unfashionable record, was capturing the imagination of people... Personally the high point could be nothing else but having a baby. bb.com: You also played quite a few live shows last year before beginning the recording of the new album and a couple of times you said the show in Osaka was probably your most satisfying ever. Do you still feel that way? Bernard: Yes, I think it was in a way. A couple of the acoustic gigs were also very good because they had a certain magic to them. The Albery show in particular was very magical... It was sold-out, it was a Sunday night... everything seemed to go to plan. I really had no idea it would be that way because you're often against the odds in London. On that particular night though everyone seemed willing to give me some patience and they understood that by becoming part of the proceedings rather than just sitting there watching that they'd be rewarded. If they actually get involved in it, then it reflects and I get involved with them. With acoustic concerts it's all the more important because the problem is volume. There has to be a certain amount of quiet and attention which is can fall over into being really boring. However if people come along in the right frame of mind and actually challenge themselves, thinking that they can go to five other rock gigs in that week but tonight we aren't going to get pissed, we're just going to soak this up. That kind of attitude from the audience makes it absolutely magical. Thinking back now, I was really proud of that night. It was then a challenge to me to do the same thing around America. You know, trying to get Americans to shut up for that length of time was a great challenge to me and in fact they did it much better than the British. There was only one duff show and that was the LA show which of course everybody found out about 'cause it was LA. All the others were wonderful though. Every night there were kids on the stage, sitting around me and everybody seemed to understand what I was trying to get across. I also think it was a really unfashionable, warm and simple thing to do. It was quite a loving thing which can be regarded as quite naff in rock 'n roll, but if you're prepared to do it then people enjoy it. bb.com: I suppose people in the UK look at that a little differently to the way that they look at it in the US... bernard: Yes, they don't expect it. They expect you to be turning up your nose at them and spitting on them and all the rest of it( laughs). It seems to catch them off guard to not do that and to invite them to become a part of it. bb.com: It's difficult to relate to a lot of the punters in the UK and the way that they go to see concerts and what they expect from it. It seems to me to be nothing to do with music, you know. bernard: Yeah (sighs). I just think that they've grown up in the 90s with so much of the media chasing their tails with groups in order to create something exciting that the journalists and editors recognise from the past. Remember a lot of these kids weren't even born in the 80s, let alone my generation and the generation of the people that are writing about the stuff. I think a lot of it is down to the groups as well. If you give people something different then they'll respond to it. When I got past the stupid kind of folkey-dokey sort of comparisons of "oh, he thinks he's the new Nick Drake just 'cause he's got an acoustic guitar" and actually got people to the concerts they began to think think "ah, this is different and actually I quite like this. I never thought I was going to see something like this, but I'm into it. I don't want to see it every night of the week and I don't want to do it everyday, but it's different." And that's important, to challenge people. You don't have to be doing something revolutionary, playing an acoustic guitar is not new by any means. However, in 1998 it was something a bit different... bb.com: That's right. bernard: Having said that though, by the time I got to the electric shows I was pretty sick of the acoustic anyway. So, the Japanese gigs were a relief. In America it was incredibly time consuming and tiring and a real emotional challenge every single night. So, once we got to Japan it felt like pure freedom and a great laugh - brilliant fun. I thought the audiences really understood what I was trying to do and were really up for an emotional experience. Not a life-changing experience or one deeply spiritual, but something that had a different sense of joy from what they may have been getting at the time. bb.com: For me, there was immense happiness being in the audience every night of that tour and feeling what the crowd was feeling. There was almost a real warmth running through the crowd, and especially in Osaka, there was an amazing energy coming off the audience that I felt you and the band were feeding off it. Bernard: Yeah, I'll tell you what it was about that night, it was the fact that it's a great club because it was kind of small. bb.com: ...And such a low stage. bernard; Yeah, small but not claustrophobic, a club that you always remember. I always remember with Suede gigs, the best ones were the first couple of tours where we were playing to those size venues. They're the ones that everyone thinks were amazing. It was the same in Osaka, there was just something that night. There are times when you walk on-stage and you just feel like you just want to smile all the way through and have a brilliant time and give people everything you've got and just stay there for as long as possible. It's also very much a two-way thing when people are in the mood and up for it. People do create the atmosphere in the room, it's generally not the artist that does it. bb.com: Going on to the album 'Friends and Lovers', when I first heard it the thing that hit me in the face, was the confidence in your voice and the way that you've developed as a singer. Do you feel that yourself? bernard: Yeah, I do. I can see that it's obvious on the record and I'm really happy with that aspect of it. On a musical level I've felt that I've known what I was doing for a long time and I felt that it was just a matter of catching the right moment at the right time and seeing that it all fits into place. I knew I was capable of musically getting some of these songs together and the ideas together, but I didn't know whether I was capable of doing it lyrically and vocally . I do feel that the voice flows all the way through the record. It doesn't flit around so much as it did on the last record through different tones and moods. The reason for it is because once we got through making the last record and then started playing live, I was just putting myself on the line every night and feeling that many people just wanted to knock me down. I therefore had to try three times as hard and I think I succeeded... By the time we got to making this record, I felt really good about it because I'd been through what I had both live and on the first record. The last record was very successful in the long run in England, but unfortunately we didn't get past a certain stage where you really start to do business and you really start to flog yourself to death putting out loads of singles. In a way that made me quite resilient and made me think "fuck it, I'm just going to go and make another and it's going to be twice as good". But, on the other hand it was also a really good thing because I don't want wring every drop out of the fans or the album. I did what I did and moved on immediately and made another record. bb.com: I think people are surprised that the next one has come out so quickly. Yeah and I'm glad about that because I've had it in me for a while. So, I feel the same about the next one really. I want to be back in the studio as soon as possible to make another one. I just feel good about myself at the moment. I feel good about the record. And I feel that I've got across a certain amount in the lyrics on the last record on a very naive basis. At that time I wanted to do that, I wanted it to be very truthful in an almost old-fashioned way. But with this record, I felt that I wanted to have the same kind of sense of realism but with added optimism and warmth maybe showing a more complex side to me. I think we're all a little bit more complex than we make out. Certain times you want to let certain things out about yourself and let certain things be known. With each record I'll be more prepared to admit a few more bizarre, slightly more eccentric things about myself I think... Not weird things! I'm admitting them in order to say that certain things, songs like 'Cocoon' for example, are about isolation. That song deals with environments and how a lot of the time you feel that the walls are almost talking to you. Which I do feel when I'm writing songs. Maybe that's crazy, to think or admit to something like that... However if I go out on the street, I'm really interested in what people who walk down the street talking to themselves feel. I find it quite funny when I see someone just muttering something to themselves. I'm sure they don't realize it.... bb.com: There's almost a childlike quality in people who do that. bernard: But things like that are really quite ordinary. If you pinned someone down about that and said "do you know that you talk to yourself", you'd probably think them a weirdo... But it's not right to think that way, people have their own worlds. On the album the lyrics deal aspects of that. There are more complex lyrical scenarios than there were on 'People Move On'. These songs are heading in the same direction, they just come from very different places... . bb.com: It's a very cohesive record both lyrically and sonically. I thought that this time there's some very, very clever lyrics in there as well. There's a real economy of language at times and it's obvious to me that you've developed those ideas probably over a period of time and needed to almost exorcise them. Bernard: There's a lot about what I'm doing at the moment that has been stored up in my head for maybe up to ten years (laughs). When I made this record I felt at the time that I was putting myself on the edge, but in actuality I wasn't really. I was just getting it out. Now that I've done that I feel I can take it even further... Let's push the stakes up again!  http://www.bernardbutler.com/interviews/99_2.gif bb.com: The one song on the record that sort of strikes me as being quite different lyrically or perhaps not the type of song we've heard from you before is 'Has Your Mind Got Away?'. It expresses a set of emotions that has always been evident in your guitar playing but not in your lyrics. Can you tell me a little about that? bernard: Yeah, it's fairly scathing and that's quite obvious. I'm hoping that people are not going to try to tie me down to certain specifics about it because it's not really what they may think it is. The whole idea of the song is this... Well, it's about two things really. The first is about the fact that when I make music I almost feel that my mind is stepping out of my physical body and wandering down the road. I know that's a strange scenario, but that's the kind of image that I see sometimes. It always happens at the moment of inception, almost the moment of "ecstacy"...When you really listen to something and it's great or when you're really into playing something and it's incredible and it envelopes you completely. The scenario I often imagine is that the mind leaves the body and walks down the road leaving the body fragile, emotional and quite vulnerable, deserting it when it has to deal with an awful lot of bullshit. It's like being left to deal with a pile of nonsense that you really don't understand. A lot of that is in the music world where none of us are brought up to deal with the machinations of the industry. You don't learn it at school... It's a fact fame fucks you up. It happens to everybody. The music industry is very hard to deal with and with my situation I'm constantly putting myself in that environment.... So the song is a little complex in that it takes this idea into account but cross-references it to people other than myself and mythical fantasy pop stars. At the end of the day I've done it all, that's the reason I know about it and that's the reason I'm writing about it. The final verse is crucial to it, because if no one's going to tell you, then how're you going to know? But nobody ever does tell you when you're being a dickhead... (laughs). bb.com: A lot of people in that situation are surrounded by people that just keep saying yes to them. bernard: Yeah, it's an old cliché, but it's true. At times being in this business makes you feel as if you're spinning around and around... and sometimes it happens to me. When I'm playing certain songs like 'Autograph', which is the one that worries me normally because if it gets to a certain point where the song is going well, it then moves on to a certain vulnerability that's hard to control...  http://www.vv-sf.com/images/bernardb_video1-sm.jpg McAlmont&Butler: Bring it backPublished by EMI Chrysalis 2002 Songs: the theme from McAlmont & Butler, Falling, Different strokes, Can we make it?, Blue, Bring it back, Where R U now?, Sunny Boy, Make it right, Beat 
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