I Get Up...I Get Down......
There I was, reading
Mojo magazine and minding my own business, when I happened upon a fabulous article on one of
the under-rated pop/rock bands -
Slade. You must remember them? That's right; the dyslexic twats from the Black Country. All platform soles and baco-foil.
They were beneath me at the time. There wasn't a 6/8 time signature amongst them. Three minute pop songs with a heavy beat. That was their forte. Everbody knew. Beneath contempt.
But what the hell did I know? A pompous prick, that was me. Although, even at the time I found myself whistling along. A guilty pleasure. Guilty because they (well....Dave Hill) placed so much emphasis on display that it seemed to detract from the music which, in retrospect, I find very, very good - errr the music that is. Not the display. Not all of it mind. Not "Mama Weer All Crazeee Now" and "Gudby t'Jane" and the like. But some of their less popular stuff was sublime.
In 1972 -73 I would have found
Yes a far more musically erudite band. Their musicianship far outstripped anything Noddy and the boys could throw up but, over the years, I guess you take stock. What can I say? It was a strange time - honest. Because, as the years have zipped on by at the speed of light, with the nights too dark and the days too bright, I've realised that the essence of what music is, is in the response it levers out of you. Slade, these days, make me smile and whistle along. Furthermore, they also make me wish I'd written what I'm listening (and whistling along) to. I suppose the question is: do Yes?
And the answer, strangely, is yes (ho ho ho) they do. What messrs Anderson, Howe, Bruford/White, Wakeman and Squire did was write some exquisite "pop" tunes. Catchy little motifs that re-occur throughout their overblown attempts at immortality. Just listen to "
Close to the Edge", "
The Yes Album" and "
Fragile".
Oh bugger! Remastered. With additional tracks. And cheap. Amazon, here I come............
Here's a little video for you.
"Keep Your Jesus Off My Penis"
"So you'll execute a person
But protect a single cell
But mercy-kill the terminally ill
And you're going straight to hell............"
In other news, I still feel eighteen but look a hundred and three. Curse you Yahweh. Curse you.......
to be continued..........
