Brett Anderson – A Not Too 'Trashy' Book

I’ve just finished reading Brett Anderson’s autobiography – 'Coal Black Mornings'. Must admit I struggled to put it down and read it cover to cover in two days. For me, Suede were always one of the most underrated British bands, a group with a unique sound and sexually ambiguous visual whi came to the fore in the Brit Pop era of hyper-masculinity. Back in 1993 I still vividly remember seeing the video for ‘Animal Nitrate’ and rushing into town the next day to buy the debut album on tape! Lyrically it was a bit like a Smiths album but stripped of pretence. Animal Nitrate and it’s video sounded to me so fresh and new, but with an instant familiarity. With its Bowie-esque/Roxy Music vibe it was both sexy and glamorous - but with a grim and grimy feel so evocative of the 70s and early 80s of my childhood.

Now at this point I must point out that this isn’t your usual warts'n'all rock biography about the excesses of life on the road and smashing hotels up. This is largely a story about Anderson's childhood, growing up poor in Haywards Heath, a sort of dead-end commuter town that ended up populating so many Suede songs. Brett’s early years particularly fascinated me, before reading this book I knew very little and thought he came from a more privileged background. 

Growing-Up Comparisons
A large part of Brett’s history is quite close to home for me even though I was 200 miles further North. He grew up more or less in the years I did and his analogies of the period are spot-on and far less forced than most novels or TV shows depicting the era are. I can relate to his childhood in many ways: beans on toast for tea, salad cream, the rainy caravan holidays, the general provincial dullness and 'making do' of the time and more than anything - being a bit of an outsider.

Anderson's description of London in the early 90s is also real to me - I also had a love affair with London at the time, even living and working down there for 12 months in 1992. Mine was a different experience being more in the west-end back street pubs and clubs than theatre-land. But though the parts of London I knew well were different, Anderson still describes to me a place I knew, there was a general mood of gloom and nothingness, the dregs of the 80s hanging about on street corners, along with the dirt, the cigarette butts and the windswept empty squares.

The early Suede Years
Now the majority of the book focuses on Brett’s childhood. If you enjoy coming of age stories you’ll really enjoy it. The band though only makes an appearance in the final quarter of the book with it stopping just before the 'big time' of success.

As the book progresses, iconic characters from the 90s musical scene sweep through Brett’s life including Justine Frischman who helped launch Suede, became Anderson’s lover, then dumped him for another musician. I particularly liked the comment about Justine being so posh that he initially thought she had a speech impediment! Interestingly, the dissolution of their relationship seemed to free both of them to achieve more creativity. Frischman went to form her own successful group Elastica, who ended up another very 90s cool band. Anderson also details how his affection, cooperation and conflict with the very talented guitarist, Bernard Butler influenced his own writing and musicianship.
I found particularly fascinating Brett's writing processes. The people (friends, relatives, neighbours) and places that informed those early songs.

You don't need to be a Suede fan to enjoy this book
Brett Anderson is an engaging writer with a fascinating history. Coal Black Mornings is an essential read for anyone who lived through the 90s. Along with Louise Wener's ‘Just for One Day' it’s an essential memoir of Britpop.

It is a short book and if I said I didn’t want more salacious details about the likes of Justine and Bernard I’d be lying, but this isn’t a book about sex, drugs and rock and roll. It is, I think, a very honest account written with his children in mind, about an ‘ordinary’ life in Britain in the 70s, 80s and early 90s, about reflecting on his upbringing and about his love of music and writing music.

What make the book work is that he’s cut the jokes and dialogue but maintained a wry tone to the whole thing. It's a wonderful read, so evocative of that age which with ever increasing distance seems ever more magical – yet ever more shabby at the same time.

Only negative - the phrase 'Coal Black Mornings' is used 7 times in this book which grates a little. I know its a clever phrase and I get it but it is repeated somewhat, there again in a funny way that’s very Brett!