Mike Joyce and Ed Buller on Working with Suede

I Started Something I Couldn’t Finish: The Smiths’ Mike Joyce Recounts His Brief Time in Suede

In Suede’s early days, the band relied on a tape machine until their desire to play live shows made this option unfeasible. So they started to look for a drummer, never dreaming that one of their heroes would show up to audition for the position.

I saw an advertisement for a drummer in Melody Maker for a London-based band who wanted someone influenced by Mike Joyce. I thought I fit the bill perfectly, so I gave them a call and spoke to their manager, but didn’t tell him who I was. I asked about the band, what kind of music they were playing and if I could hear some of it. He told me they weren’t sending out any cassettes and I told him that I had to hear it first, because I didn’t want to come down from Manchester to London to try out if I didn’t like the music. He asked me whom I had worked with before and I said The Smiths and Public Image Ltd, at which point he decided they could send me a cassette. I thought the music was fantastic so I went down to meet them.

We recorded demos for two early songs—“Be My God” and “Art”—which I ended up producing. Bernard was an absolute genius as a guitarist, but he needed to be hauled in a bit. He still wanted to play mad guitar from the stick count straight on until the end. So I explained to him that it might be a good idea to just chill out during the verse and then come in heavy during the chorus. I wouldn’t say the sessions were volatile, but it was tense—there was a lot going on between Brett and Bernard that I didn’t know about. I just wanted them to relax so I could bring out the best in them.

It was so interesting for me to see Suede at that stage in their career, because they were on the brink of something quite big. They had ambition and talent, and I knew that they were going to do well. I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to join the band, though. They had a guitarist that sounded more like Johnny Marr than Johnny Marr did, a singer that sang falsetto and a bassist that sounded a bit like Andy Rourke, so to put me in the band wouldn’t do them any favors. They needed to be a success in their own right, so we all decided that they should keep looking.

You can hear Mike Joyce’s radio show, “Coalition Chart Show,” on East Village Radio (eastvillageradio.com) every Thursday between 3 p.m. and 5 p.m. (GMT).

[photo by Alex Lake]

Electric Man: Ed Buller Looks Back on Producing a Trio of Suede Classics

The former Psychedelic Furs keyboardist-turned-producer not only sat behind the boards for Suede, Dog Man Star and Coming Up, he has also helmed Pulp’s His ’N’ Hers, Spiritualized’s Lazer Guided Melodies and White Lies’ debut, To Lose My Life.


When I first met Suede, no one was doing that kind of music. There were a lot of shoegazing bands that prided themselves on not having frontmen or guitar heroes, but Suede was the exact opposite of that. With Bernard, they had the ultimate ’70s guitar hero, and with Brett, they had a total pop star.

For the first album, I worked really hard on Brett’s voice and Bernard’s guitar being distinct sounds, so when you heard it you knew, “Oh, that’s Suede.” Suede has an indie feel to it, but that went out the window with Dog Man Star. Every interesting band has a Beatles moment when they think, “We don’t have to play just our instruments. We can get other people and pay them to play their instruments.” It’s a crucial part of a band’s development, because it puts them in a different headspace. The best bands in the world are those that understand this and appreciate the possibilities. Dog Man Star was Suede’s Sgt. Pepper. It was such a brave second album for a band to make, but they wanted to explore. It’s the best thing they ever did. Coming Up was very focused, because Brett is a very competitive guy. He wants to be at the top of the charts and he wants to do it on his own terms with his own music. He realized that history was being written that Suede was finished, so he really wanted to come back and say, “No, we barely started.” We were both adamant that it had to have five straight-up hits on it. We stripped the songs down to their basic components and the end results are dance-y, poppy, shiny, bright and happy. It’s the easiest album I’ve ever made. F

[photo by Andy Willsher]