Head Music

1	Electricity
2	Savoir Faire
3	Can't Get Enough
4	Everything Will Flow
5	Down
6	She's in Fashion
7	Asbestos
8	Head Music
9	Elephant Man
10	Hi-Fi
11	Indian Strings
12	He's Gone
13	Crack in the Union Jack

Barnes & Noble

For more than half a decade, Brett Anderson and his merry crew have been capturing the hearts of Anglophiles while perplexing folks with little kinship for our colonial pals. HEAD MUSIC may, more than any of the London Suede's previous releases, give less fashionable types an entrée into the band's psychosexual cosmos. That's thanks in part to a newly toughened sonic assault led by guitarist Richard Oakes, who slashes and burns in classic punk fashion on such edgy tracks as "Electricity" and "Can't Get Enough." The sprawling disc is hardly one-dimensional, though: Reference points as diverse as HOUSES OF THE HOLY-era Led Zeppelin ("Indian Strings") and Prince (the horn-infused "Asbestos") zip around the brain, deftly tying the synapses into love knots. Longtime fans needn't fret, either, as Anderson preens his way through an array of trademark melodramas, highlighted by the live-gig staple "He's Gone." David Sprague

All Music Guide

Coming Up was every bit the triumphant comeback Brett Anderson and company were expecting and it was a terrific little record, but it did suggest that Suede had begun to reach the limits of Ed Buller's production ideas, while also feeling a little superficial. The very fact that its sequel was produced by Steve Osbourne, the man behind classics LPs from New Order and Happy Mondays, suggested they were returning to the dark undercurrents of their first two records, yet, Head Music is Coming Up, Pt. 2. Working with Osbourne has added some vague elements of electronic and dance music to Suede's signature sound, but these primarily manifest themselves in the form of gurgling analog synths and canned, old-school drum machines. Essentially, they're just window-dressing, since the songs themselves are extensions of the glam flash of Coming Up. While that hardly qualifies as an artistic progression, it hardly qualifies as a bad album either, and they've never sounded quite as unself-conscious as they do here. Suede even gets downright silly at times, whether it's the goofy puns of the title track or the ridiculously intoxicating stomp "Elephant Man." It's hard not to miss early Suede -- the psychedelic "Indian Springs" comes close to capturing the feel, but it's bright, not menacing, and the ballads are pretty, not majestic -- but even in this streamlined incarnation, nobody does this kind of trash pop as alluringly as Suede. Nobody can turn out a single as thrilling as "Electricity," nobody can grind out sex'n'drugs anthems as electrifying as "Can't Get Enough," or swoon as fetchingly as "She's in Fashion." When it comes down to it, nobody makes cheap sleaze sound so alluring. Stephen Thomas Erlewine