Near Buckley’s Falls, Geelong, Victoria, 1974
In the 1970s, UK glam rockers Slade were big, really big; early on, the word was out on the street, my street – Maidie Street, Highton, Geelong.
Glenda, 13, a year older than me, lived a couple of houses down and was raving about the band. One day she rushed up and told me how good they were: “Aw, Slade, they’re brilliant! Fantastic!”
I’d vaguely heard of them but decided to be a bit of a smart alec, as I couldn’t name one of their songs at the time and was sure she couldn’t either. “OK then, if they’re so great, name one of their songs.” Glenda looked stumped, “Oh, err …” then, in a sudden burst of inspiration, started singing some lines from their first Australian hit, a live version of Get Down and Get with It:
Wanna see everybody get off your seat/Clap your hands and stamp your feet …
Oh yeah, I remember thinking, I’ve heard that song. Fair enough, Glenda.
But I never really liked Get Down and Get with It. Even as a 12-year-old, I thought the lyrics lacked imagination, were low-grade stuff. The best thing about Glenda’s enthusiasm, though, was that it triggered my interest in Slade.
Pretty soon, I’d bought the album Sladest, a collection of the band’s greatest hits up until 1974, with a bunch of other songs thrown in for good measure. I loved almost all the songs on the LP, but a few stood out, probably Gudbuy T’Jane was my favourite.
The song was so catchy; infectious was the word, from Don Powell’s quickfire drumming, Dave Hill’s melodic, riffy guitar work, Jimmy Lea’s smooth bass playing and most of all Neville “Noddy” Holder’s raspy, rocking way of selling a tune:
Goodbye to Jane, goodbye to Jane/She’s a dark horse see if she can/Goodbye to Jane, goodbye to Jane/ Painted up like a fancy young man/She’s a queen, /Can’t you see what I mean, she’s a queen …
What a ripper of a song! A few years later, when I was playing in rock bands in secondary school, I wanted to play something by Slade, but Slade were deceptively good musicians, and we didn’t have any Don Powells, Jimmy Leas, Dave Hills or Noddy Holders available to carry it off. I remember reading, in the liner notes accompanying Sladest, an opinion expressed by their manager and producer, Chas Chandler – that the group were better musicians than those in his former band: 1960s legends, The Animals.
I think Chandler knew something.
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Good on ya Kevin
You have stirred up some memories again.
I have three memories from exactly the same era. I remember when a fellow student brought in the Slade Alive record to class for what must have been a ‘student choice’ music lesson when I was in grade six. How wild! I remember, when questioned by my form one music teacher, who are my favorite musicians I responded with Beethoven, Mozart and Slade, just for the shock reaction. I also recall my innocent eyes looking at the liner notes on a friend’s Slade album and seeing the word ‘shit’ in print for the first time in my life.
Great, David! Really pleased that you found my Slade story so evocative – and thanks for your own memories! Yes, they were such an important part of the music scene for so many of us in the 1970s – I suppose back then, in suburban Australia, things British played a considerably bigger part in our lives than they do now. We listened to much more British music and watched a great deal more UK TV – Please Sir, Doctor in the House, (dare I say it) Benny Hill, The Liver Birds, The Sweeney, The Two Ronnies etc were popular viewing, and British music went hand-in-hand with this milieu. Aside from all that, Slade were bloody GOOD, and listening to them was exciting. All the band members are still alive today, I believe, and have had interesting careers since their halcyon days. Good luck to them!
Thank you. 64 going on old age but up and dancing to this lol
Thanks for your comment, Ann. I’m close to the same age as you – yes, that young! – and still enjoy a bit of Slade.