Suede, Olympia Theatre, Dublin, Thursday 4 November 1999

My friend had forgotten her ticket. My eyes had narrowed into two infra red beams, ready to nuke her. But no, her ma had sent the ticket into town with a bus driver and it would be waiting in some office or other. We sat in traffic for half an hour and eventually retrieved said ticket. And missed the support band. My point? If you thought that intro was long, Suede took the full packet of hob-nobs.

Fair enough, a long build up here and there can really enhance a popular song, but every single time? Brett appeared looking scrawny, junkie-like and high on something. Or maybe it was some natural buzz created by an adoring crowd. Suede are impressive live though, injecting real enthusiasm into proceedings. They opened on the punky new single 'I can't get enough' and proceeded to concentrate on material from "Head Music" and "Coming up", with only a nod to "Dog Man Star" and the obvious tunes from their debut. "Remember 1993", teased Brett before they launch into 'Animal Nitrate' like they really wish it was 1993 again. Then they played the insufferable 'Elephant Man' and my sympathy was gone. I stood there, arms crossed watching Brett strut around to a song that raises Westlife to the status of John Lennon. But some dude once talked about equal measures of pleasure and pain. Tunes such as 'Everything will flow', 'Down', and 'The Wild' Ones sounded exquisite and made everyone remember why they first fell in love with Suede. But then, they have always been better at doing the slow songs.

Many people have written off Brett Anderson as an arrogant megalomaniac. But when such an individual can write lines like "you draw the blinds and blow your mind away" ('Head Music') you know that he cannot be dismissed as a complete asshole. Suede have never been huge and they probably never will be, but they have a fiercely loyal fan-base (including myself), many of whom could be felt heaving towards the stage, hanging on Anderson's every word. Not that he gave us many words to hang on to, but we didn't care. They've been described as a crap version of Ziggy, though they'd rather compare themselves to The Sex Pistols, Suede have still got the old savoir faire.

Anne-Louise Foley