the fannish disposition
by ditte holm

in a cosy looking little bar, a small crowd of people are gathering. the reason they are there is waiting behind a door still closed: a danish suede cover band called love & poison. many of the people are clearly there because they know the band. at least one person, though, is there just for the music: a young woman, standing by herself - me. and then the door is opened, people drift down, the band comes on, and they are actually really good…

the question begs to be asked: why? why do these young men form a band to play the songs of others? why does this young woman, me, choose to spend an evening going by herself to a cover band gig, in a bar whose idea of an improvised stage is a corner almost blocked from view by a large pillar? what inspires this interest, and what is its nature?

as with most things, asking is easier than giving an adequate answer, but i shall nonetheless attempt it.

being a fan - any fan, of anything – is a part of your identity. i shall spare the readers from psychological theories – suffice it to say that it’s widely agreed that things outside ourselves, like a band, can become part of our self-concepts. some might say this means we are weak and have to identify as fans in order to be someone at all. using an analogy, they’d think that we must be invisible ourselves, and put on this fandom as clothes, to become visible. that is indeed possible, and no doubt is what fandom is about for some. however, it is not the only possible explanation: it might just be that we put on these fandom “clothes”, not because we are invisible without them, but, simply, because they suit us. the question, then, is in what particular way.

it is often said that suede are a band for outsiders, people who don’t fit in. that is no doubt quite true. however, being a suede fan should not only be defined by what we are not, but also by what we are.

and what are we? i bet many readers have the answer “traaaaash!!” going through their minds. if they do, they have an idea of the truth as i see it. we are, of course, the people in their songs, living many of the things they write about. and while it might sound cool to talk about how “suedey” we are, it isn’t always so great a life: suburban homes, loneliness, entangled relationships; drowning sorrows in alcohol or drugs. which is probably why people sometimes seem to think suede fans are all a bunch of depressed people. but there is also a good side to it which, perhaps, people don’t see so much, but which i find so very important. that is the passion in the songs, the hope, the lust for life in spite of not always being much or having much, the ability to see the beauty in tragedy. it is the commitment to life with all its quirks and problems.

to continue answering what we are, we are also the singers of the songs, figuratively speaking: the ones seeing all the rottenness and decay, all the fears and problems - but also the beauty in it, having compassion for the people we see, especially for those who are giving up, who stop caring, because that is so far from what suede fandom is all about.

suede fans might very well face things that hurt and suffer from them. but i think the main thing about us is taking an interest in life through it all, it is seeing beauty in unlikely places. it is choosing to live and enjoy life, rather than holding back in fear of the pain.

…in the bar, the band reach the last song of the set. they play an encore afterwards, but i will end with some of that last “regular” song, because it says it so well:

“and maybe we’re just kids who’ve grown. and maybe not. and maybe when we’re on our own, we don’t have much. but oh, we are young and not tired of it…”

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