Artist: Slade
Label: RCA Records
Release: 1983
Runtime: 42:27
Rating: 4/5
You wouldn’t be far off if you said that Noddy Holder and James Lea, members of the Wolverhampton quartet Slade, were the Lennon and McCartney of glam rock. The comparison fits even better when you consider that, besides the mass hysteria the band whipped up among teenagers in the mid-seventies, Slade racked up seventeen top 20 singles and six number ones in the UK between 1971 and 1991. Nor is it a small detail that in ’73 the British music press voted them the best vocal group, and that they’re still the only act on the island to have stormed the top of the charts with consecutive singles on several occasions. Like the Beatles, they even made their own feature-length film (Slade in flame, 1975), and they’re also known for the fact that their manager was originally the famous Chas Chandler, former bassist of the Animals and the man who also looked after Jimi Hendrix, and that in the eighties the band handed that job to Sharon Osbourne.
It was Ozzy, in fact, who in 1980 gave Noddy and co. their way back among the living, when he handed them his slot at the legendary Reading festival. The last two albums, Whatever happened to Slade (1977) and Return to base (1979), hadn’t lived up to expectations, and Slade, who’d had to move from roomy stages in packed stadiums to out-of-the-way dives, were on the verge of splitting up. After Reading and two consequently more successful albums, We’ll bring the house down (1981) and Till deaf do us part (1982), came a fresh shot of adrenaline. On the other side of the Atlantic in 1983, Quiet riot set off a real revolution with their cover of Cum on feel the noize, getting metal onto the American charts and into the mainstream. Slade, of course, benefited quite a bit from that. That same year they recorded the album The amazing kamikaze sydrome and, with the mighty blockbusters Run runaway and My oh my, finally knocked on America’s door too.
It looked like Slade had made a triumphant return to the stage, but that wasn’t the case. The final decline, this time for good, was already foreshadowed by a short illness of bassist James Lea, which scuttled an American tour with Ozzy, then confirmed by the album Rogues gallery and sealed by the last release from the original lineup, You boyz make big noize, out in 1987. But let’s get back to The amazing kamikaze syndrome, which came out in America a year later, in a slightly altered form, under the title Keep your hands off my power supply. Unlike the band’s last two releases, which, thanks to their prominent keyboards, edge toward AOR and all-too-polished pop, this one is a pure-blooded rock album that carries on Slade’s early-eighties tradition. Slam the hammer down and In the doghouse are classic rock n’roll anthems, built for what Noddy and later Kevin DuBrow dubbed “stomp your hands, clap your feet”, yet they still feel like just a kind of prelude to the album’s first big moment. Run runaway, the song that gave Slade their first “top 40” hit in America, with its power chords, “pub” chorus and Irish fiddles, is surely one of the most infectious songs in rock history. The tongue-in-cheek glam video, shot in front of one of England’s castles, helped the song along too, and with the then-newly launched MTV playing it nonstop, the label’s investment paid for itself handsomely. The remaining tracks fall into two categories: bouncy marches that swing between harder-edged hard rock and seventies glam, and ballads, a genre in which Slade had always shone. Two are worth singling out: (And now the waltz) C’est la vie and the unforgettable masterpiece My oh my. The song is marked by a moving piano intro, played by James Lea, an effective orchestral arrangement with a dreamy chorus backed by Scottish bagpipes, and a message that, unlike so many of the band’s lyrics, makes sense and is easy to follow. But My oh my isn’t just a heart-wrenching little tune. It’s the first power ballad in rock history, which is something the know-it-alls who still cite Home sweet home by Motley crue, released two years later, in this context should write down and remember. This important fact really shouldn’t be forgotten. And of course, the common thread of this album and the band’s others is Noddy Holder’s instantly recognizable raspy voice, which Slade owe a good deal of their success and identity to. Among others, DuBrow and Joey Ramone took their cues from Noddy, and because of him even a giant like Tom Jones felt inferior and moved from rock into pop waters: “I never wanted to be a pop singer. I really hated Noddy,” Jones said in one interview.
So The amazing kamikaze syndrome is the last Slade album to make the charts and, at least as far as commercial success goes, the swan song of the famous English band. Their best album of the eighties hadn’t been written and recorded yet, as that honor still belongs to Rogues gallery, which, despite its enviable production and musical flexibility, couldn’t change the course of events. And maybe that’s for the best. Seventies glam was moving into harder waters, and Slade, who unlike the chameleon-like Bowie and Kiss, who shed their masks, refused to adapt to trends, went out along with it.
Lineup
Noddy Holder – vocals
Jim Lea – bass
Dave Hill – guitar
Don Powell – drums
Production
Jim Lea, John Punter (Run runaway, My oh my)
Track list
1. Slam the hammer down
2. In the doghouse
3. Run runaway
4. High and dry
5. My oh my
6. Cocky rock boys (rule OK)
7. Ready to explode
8. (And now the waltz) C’est la vie
9. Cheap and nasty luv
10. Razzle dazzle man
