When I was in school there was only one band that you were proud to say that you had seen play live. It was Slade.
This was before they became a joke. It was before you dared not admit
you liked Slade. Before their records were remaindered in Woolies. It
was before Noddy left to go to be an actor in The Grimleys.
It was even before Slade became a household name, part of our national
heritage and glam-rock heroes. It was before they gave us their
Christmas number one. It was when they were known for just one thing –
for being the best hard rock act around.
In those days, at school, things were divided into two musical camps:
One lot liked hippy stuff. They liked Yes, Pink Floyd and Tyrannosaurus
Rex (not T. Rex.) This lot went around in hippy clothes such as loon
pants, cheese-cloth shirts and old trench coats. They said “Peace” a
lot. The other camp – the ones that adults called “Skinheads” (point of
order – we just called them “Skins”) had short hair, wore boots, and
liked Slade. This was before punk. It was before 2-tone. It was long
before ‘Madness.’ The only thing that the skins could call their own
kind of music was Dave and Ansell Collins. And Slade.
Slade came out of the Black Country in 1971 with “Get Down and Get
With It”. And with it came boot stomping rock ‘n’ roll heaven. That song
was originally recorded by Little Richard for the “Okeh Sessions” . And it gave everyone a chance to get their boots on and stamp their feet.
The Slade boys – drummer Don Powell, guitarist Dave Hill, singer
Noddy Holder and bassist Jim Lea were raised on fine music – such as
John Lee Hooker and Howlin’ Wolf. They had played support slots for
bands such as The Yardbirds (fore runners of Led Zeppelin.) In 1971 it
was their chance to take centre stage.
Slade made the wearing of Crombie coats, cherry red Doc Martens, and
Sta-Prest Levi’s with braces, seem cool and trendy. And even if that
conjured up images of skinheads who were more like Dick Emery’s idiot
creation ‘Bovver boy’ (and his even more idiotic his father – played
by Roy Kinnear) - Slade become a cult act, and skinhead rock was real.
But, when Chas Chandler (former manager of Jimi Hendrix), came into
possession of the brand, and began to drive the musicians towards
success, things began to get out of hand. After the successful – and
much-loved single “Coz I Luv You” (written by Lea and Holder) we then
got a flurry of misspelled pop songs like “Take Me Bak ‘Ome” and “Look
Wot You Dun”. And Slade gradually became a ‘Glam Band’ I always thought
that they seemed reluctant to go down the glam-rock path. Well, except
for Dave, that is. His glitter wig and super-yob guitar can never be
forgotten. The story goes that, after an altercation in the dressing
room on Top of the Pops – when Jim once again criticised Dave for
wearing a tin foil jumpsuit – Dave allegedly responded to the criticism
by saying “You write ‘em Jim, and I’ll sell em !”
Looking back at the early 1970’s (and in light of the Jimmy Savile
allegations) I sometimes get a feeling of nausea – rather than nostalgia
about the times. This was the era that brought us Gary Glitter and “Do
You Wanna Touch Me? (Oh Yeah)” with the “Do you wanna touch me there,
where?” lyric. It was addressed to little girls. And little boys. And I
also remember Sweet’s ‘Little Willy’ (You can’t push Willy round, Willy
won’t go.) And just knew that Mary Whitehouse would write in about it.
So when Slade played live at the Anvil Basingstoke
this week, it was probably reasonable to exclude “Skweeze Me, Pleeze
Me” from the set list. And thinking about this reminds me that my
favourite song by Slade was “Gudbuy T ‘Jane” and it was kept from the No
1 slot by the innuendo laden Chuck Berry hit “My Ding-a-Ling.” (Which
Mary did complain about.)
Today, the Slade line-up is: Vocals and guitar Mal McNulty
(previously with Paddy Goes To Holyhead and Sweet) John Berry on bass /
backing vocals and violin (he has worked with Mud), and the original
band members Don Powell on drums and super-yob Dave Hill on lead guitar.
At the Anvil, the band worked their way through a series of ‘Crazee’
rock numbers – and they had the audience up and dancing almost
immediately. Just like the old days. Everyone was standing. Everyone
was stomping . Best songs in the show were, for my money, the excellent
“Everyday” (I forgot how good that number was) and the Celtic sounding
song “Run Runaway”.
I missed “Far Far Away” and I really liked “Nobody’s Fool” back in
1976. But that was forgotten too. But we still got “Mama Weer All Crazee
Now”. Thank goodness.
Dave Hill still haunts the stage with that silly smile of his. Trying
to boot things. Still being the class clown. And Don still looks as
menacing as he ever has been. Mal actually sounds like Noddy. And that
must be a hard act to follow. And John played a passable violin solo on
“Coz I Luv You” – but it was not as good as Jim Lea. Their performance
was exhilarating. Strong, heavy and full of fun. Just like a Slade show
should be.
Some of these old bands become shadows of themselves. They sometimes
become affectionate cover bands. Of their own music. But Slade have not
crumbled. They are still full of energy. It’s encouraging. They really
know how to perform. And they are loud. That’s why they brought the
house down at the Reading Festival in 1980
And before the curtain call at The Anvil, Dave came out on stage to
thank the audience. “It was not a bad year that?” He chirped. “It’s been
good hasn’t it?” Everyone agreed and clapped some more. Party hats were
rushed on by roadies. And the group got back on stage. And they played
“Merry Xmas Everybody”.
Before the concert, I was thinking about that song. And I was hoping
that they would not play it. But they did. And do you know what? It
brought a tear to my eye.
- © Neil_Mach November 2012 -
Link:
http://www.slade40years.com/