Review Summary: Play it loud? I might do just that, thank you very much.
Slightly over a year and a half later, Ambrose Slade shortened their name to the one they’re known for, changed their image, and brought on board Chas Chandler – a well-known industry figure at the time (
The Animals,
The Jimi Hendrix Experience,
Soft Machine) – to produce their second studio album.
In the overall scheme of things, it is this release that can be called their debut, since on it Slade present original material that is only slightly diluted with covers (three, to be exact). Compared to the official first album, this ratio is practically reversed.
The image of skinhead rockers imposed by the band’s manager and the boisterous title are not reflected in the contents (though the move was more successful in terms of promotion and recognition). Yes, the LP has its share of bravado and aggression (the latter more pronounced in the signature shouting vocals of Noddy Holder). However, the station where the band stopped – still very much in the process of searching for an identity – is called “classic, groovy hard rock”.
Without taking a single step outside these boundaries, Slade nevertheless find things worth saying, focusing on rhythmic melodies fueled by distinct basslines and punctuated by increasingly bold and at times wah-heavy guitar work by Dave Hill. Occasional noticeable signs of punk (
The Shape of Things to Come), as well as flirtations with the psychedelic-era
Beatles (
Could I,
Pouk Hill) and funk (
Dirty Joker), only mark, like dotted lines, the areas where the band could go if they wanted to. This should not confuse the audience, as it is simply not in Slade’s nature to dart haphazardly between genres. Rather, having occupied a warm niche in hard rock, the band clearly understood it wasn’t a permanent retreat and that they could take a stroll into adjacent surroundings.
The one thing that gives away the eccentric Brits as newcomers – attesting to their vibrant maximalism and youthful energy – is the lyrics. Having been instructed by the producer to “create, not exploit” and given full freedom to write, the musicians rushed to pen their thoughts. The creative tandem of Holder, Jim Lea, and Don Powell authored nine of the twelve songs present on the album, with lyrics reflecting both inspiration and imagination, as well as the haste and levity of their approach.
The album has it all: overt navel-gazing (
See Us Here), descriptions of everyday life on the road (
One Way Hotel), self-mockery (
Pouk Hill), attempts at philosophizing (
Know Who You Are), allegorical depictions of higher animals (
Raven,
Dapple Rose), and hastily slapped-together, relatively meaningless lyrics (
Could I,
Angelina,
Sweet Box).
Nevertheless, despite another missed shot at commercial success, the band managed to announce themselves as a full-fledged creative unit. The album, which today sounds like a fine example of classic rock, finds Slade lighting the fuse of their arsenal and walking towards a brighter future.
Best songs: Raven,
Dapple Rose,
Know Who You Are,
Sweet Box
