Plastic Suede. Even if the British press (and the rest of us) moved on when guitarist Bernard Butler did, Suede has enough sturm und drang to keep on keepin’ on. (Think Anthony Newley by way of the Smiths.) After a while, though, musical might means nothing. Weak similes, sung high over slick but slight echoes of an old lineup, stand naked. The magic is gone.
Rating: C-
