January 13, 1973: Match of the Day

Slade Melody Review

A POLICEMAN singing Mama, Weer All Crazee Now," and beating time on his helmet, drew an expression akin to despair to the face of a London Palladium attendant on Sunday night.

The latter knew it was no use expecting help from the Law in moving on several hundred youngsters from the jammed aisies of the venerable old variety theatre. Slade were on stage, yelling, posturing and blitzing the air with the shrapnel of rock. The orgy of Footstamping and cheering would have to take its course, until the National Anthem could be guaranteed to clear the premises.

It would be impossible to deny the excitement and Infectious expenditure of energy, that Slade unleash on stage. They are professionals, and filled with a kind of demonaic power rare among groups.

Most of this stems from the lungs and larynx of Noddy Holder, a gent with a murderous smile, a mirrored top hat, and a voice that makes Joe Cocker sound like Vera Lynn.

The voice is all-powerful. The band's volume, is relatively low and well balanced. They were much less ear piercing than the warm-up group. The lead guitar is a fairly non-committal jangle and drone, the one, drums speak with little fire, only the bass takes a strong line, probing and stomping. But the voice dominates, a relentless yelling that the owner delivers without apparent effort or pain.

And Noddy has total know- ledge and control over his audience. He breaks off in the middle of a ballad (yes, they do play a quiet number, the attractive, "Darling, Be Home Soon " by John Sebastian), and organises a kind of pantomime call and response routine with the audience, based upon foot- ball chants.

What proved extraordinary (to me at any rate), was the obvious popularity of the game, football. To my surprise, as Noddy mentioned various teams," the audience, even including young girls, began uttering and even sang You'll Never Walk Alone." Indeed it was a kind of match of the day atmosphere throughout.

Slade music is community music. The fans identify to such an extent they wear glitter in the eyes and hair, or Slade girls hurl items of underclothing on stage, fondly embroideredity ashsilvery or top

Indeed Noddy was moved to warn the audience not to stamp too much, and there had been discussion backstage about the safety of the ancient structure. During "Get Down And Get With It," the floor of the circle sprang up and down like a trampoline, and I fied to the rear looking for a handhold, in case we were all pitched into the stalls in a shower of rubble. My fears subsiding, I began to thoroughly enjoy this ex-

pression of youthful exuberance. "Gudbye T'Jane," I

bawled with considerable force, until I realised the orchestra were in fact playing "Look Wot You Dun."

The driving rhythm, the lashing lights, and Noddy's boisterous scampering around the footlights, all combined to induce a quickening of the heartbeats, a hot flush around the temple, and an and an unaccountable desire to tap one's left foot with considerable vigour.

The encores came, not like a roar of applause for a Rick Wakeman organ solo, or 20 minute marathon of improvisation by Soft Machine, but rather like a particularly good goal by Dixie Dean or Stanley Matthews.

The hit tunes had been played, the fans had thrown their last pair of panties, and Noddy's voice seemed as powerful as a young ox, unimpaired by an entire evening of soulful bellowing.

Even Slade seemed slightly awed by the response, and offered heartfelt thanks for their fans' loyalty, as they completed the second encore. It complete is always something of an accolate to play the Palladium, although doubtless Judy Garland fans would be horrified to know the front row seats unfortunately gave way to the pressure of many tiny bodies

crawling about the place. But it was all in good humour, and and one hopes the theatre authorities were not too horrified to the extent of preventing any future such entertainments.

It certainly proved an entertaining evening, as the passer- by shouted at me in the street on our way home: "Weer all crazee now!" Er right on brother, as we Slade fans say. -CHRIS WELCH.

*Dixie Dean and Stanley Matthews: Believed to be popular football, heroes, mentioned in order to "up-date" one's commentary. Get it on! (Oh no, sorry, that's the wrong group). -CHRIS WELCH.