Well-dressed and hypersexual, Suede burst onto the London music scene in the early 1990s like a blast of lipstick and champagne. Considered by some to be the heirs to Bowie’s throne upon their arrival, Suede set the aesthetic standard that subsequent bands would chase for years, even as they themselves continuously evolved.

If it wasn’t already clear, Suede have been a favorite band of mine since their arrival. I was part of the Boston punk and hardcore scene in my youth, but as I aged, my social circle graduated from afternoons in basement venues to nightclubs. It wasn’t just about drinking beer in parks anymore; the soundtrack of our young adulthood became based around Britpop and electro dance music coming from Europe, with all the social chaos that came with it: girls, drugs, and nights that lasted for an entire weekend. Suede’s sound fit perfectly into that strange new landscape: glamorous, edgy, and defiant. They felt like the perfect bridge between the fading rock rebellion of my hardcore days and the emerging, more stylized, fashion-forward scene.