Aching for Blighty

My husband has gone off to London for a much-deserved holiday. Though I'm so happy for him to be going home to reconnect, as all expats must do, I'm torn by a deep longing to be there with him. To be there. Since this is a music site, I wanted to write about this longing to be in a place through music. And though my love for British alternative music runs deep and long, no band quite describes my longing, my pining, than Suede (and no, I won't call them the London Suede).

My friend Melissa and myself share a love of this band, and have since we first saw them on a sweaty and thrilling night at the Metro in Lincoln Park, Chicago, in '93. She suffered being crushed against a trunk, I suffered being whipped in the face by Brett's mic cord, but aside from those painful moments, we were both exhilarated by the experience, and both fell in love with this band in all its painfully beautiful intensity.

To me, Suede, and especially Brett Anderson, epitomize the England of my fantasies, and hit an odd Anglophile nerve that still exists in me, despite the battering my love took by the modern-day realities of the UK today. Brett is the beautiful, untouchable Englishman, all pale beauty and attitude. On stage, he had an androgynous energy like Bowie, with a tense and urgent voice that so perfectly fit modern times. He was a furious dandy, and he was dressed in black—a combination that, to me, is irresistible.

I saw Suede in Kentish Town, at a joyful fanclub only gig. I saw them in Kilburn at the National, and at their bittersweet penultimate show at Brixton. Each time, I experienced an intense feeling of their sheer Englishness, so unlike any energy on the planet.

To me, Suede is: extreme excitement and anticipation of a great night out... dark room listenings, sometimes tearful, always emotional... lager-fueled pre-show discussions down the pub, followed by lager-fueled screams and pogo dancing... quick jumps into black taxis... wandering around the warehouses of King's Cross, where the fan club gig was supposed to be, finding out from other fans that it had been moved to the Forum at Kentish Town... Melissa falling down the stairs... laughing so hard I could pee... hanging out with the band after the Metro show... my mug from the Kilburn show, from which I proudly drank tea at work throughout each day...To me, Suede is London and the height of my joy of being a part of that great city.

Beauty and the Joy of Creative Respite

The world has taken a dark turn in recent weeks, globally and locally. The bright spark of Egypt aside, there's little beauty or uplifting distraction out there.

But when I see this video, I am overwhelmed by the beauty and sheer creative energy of artists at work. This is an incredible testament to the desire to push the limits of an artistic genre. Who'd have thought the music video could go this deep, this intensely beautiful. I applaud the directors and thank them for the creative respite they've provided in their incredibly moving imagery.

A great artist is truly capable of soothing dark hearts. Only the arts can play this role. Music and art are the great emancipators from the tedious, the hateful, the intensely ugly. No art form, in my opinion, does this better than music. But this incredible marriage of music and visual art is truly wonderful. Please enjoy.