Monsters Of Rock Festival, Castle Donington

SLADE: A refreshing hurricane of fresh air




slade Donington 1981 You can't hold a party in the middle of a damp Saturday afternoon and expect all the guests to stick around to the end. Not, that is, unless your name is Slade.

Although hampered by the worst rain of the day, Slade conquered the proceedings and absolutely stole the show. It wasn't totally surprising. Slade are indisputedly a festival band -- they know the ropes --- and they work their best at HM extravaganzas where their glossy over the top antics bash down every barrier

SLADE DIDN'T stop to consider the problems. They merely marched on stage and rattled through almost everything they've ever written -- 'We'll Bring The House Down', 'Gudbuy T'Jane', 'When I'm Dancing,' can imagine the rest -- taking the unconcealed piss out of all the hierarchical posturing that generally passes for showmanship at such places.

" I want everybody to get up out of their seats," bellowed Noddy Holder, summing up the absurdity of the situation. And, everybody did, mentally that is . For an hour, the sloth slipped out of the arena and sixty thousand fists punched the air in the traditional manner to acknowledge that Slade, at least had made the discomfort worthwhile before the band launched a hundred bog rolls into the atmosphere and took their leave in a storm of genuine appreciation.

Clearly, Blue Oyster Cult were going to have 'fun' following on.

Blue Oyster Cult already had troubles. the night before the festival, their drummer Albert Bouchard had caused the band's first line up change in a decade, leaving the drums in the hands of a roadie and the Cult, in somewhat of a precarious position. Exactly what they didn't need after Slade.

To put it mildly, they bombed.



Photograph courtesy of Eamon Jurdzis




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