Remembering Dale “Buffin” Griffin, born on this day in 1948. —Ed.
To most the backstory of Mott the Hoople goes something like this: nothing much special hard rock led by lead singer with Dylan fixation is on verge of throwing in towel when David Bowie tosses them lifeline in form of “All the Young Dudes.”
There are several problems with this narrative. First, Mott the Hoople were anything but a conventional hard rock band–they were a rock ’n’ roll band fronted by Ian Hunter, a singer/ songwriter with a penchant for ballads. Toss in the oversized presence of eccentric Svengali/ producer/ legendary wrecker of recording studios Guy Stevens, who was more than happy to indulge Hunter’s idiosyncrasies, and what you had was a band that set itself well apart from the hard rock pack.
Seriously, how many hard rock bands could have come up with songs called “Death May Be Your Santa Claus” and “The Wheel of the Quivering Meat Conception”? Or recorded a brilliant cover of Sonny Bono’s “Laugh at Me”? Or an equally brilliant cover of Dion’s anti-heroin ode “Your Own Backyard”? Or produced as many anthemic ballads as hard rockers for that matter?
All four of Mott’s pre-All the Young Dudes LPs merit high grades, and their 1970 sophomore outing Mad Shadows is no exception. Like the others it splits the difference between heavy and soft, and showcases the mad skills of Hunter, guitarist Mick Ralphs, organ player Verden Allen, bass player Pete “Overend” Watts, and drummer Dale “Buffin” Griffith.
Mad Shadows opens with the Black Sabbath-flavored “Thunderbuck Ram.” What makes it the odd man out on the LP is that it was written and sung by Ralphs, the member of Mott who pushed Mott to take a more hard-edged approach and later defected to Bad Company to find it. Why Mott chose to open Mad Shadows with “Thunderbuck Ram” is a bit of a mystery, but it’s hard to escape the conclusion that they were trying to win over the Uriah Heep crowd. In any event the maneuver fooled no one–any proto-metal head who bought Mad Shadows on the basis of “Thunderbuck Ram” was fated to walk away feeling cheated.
Mott’s its characteristic self again on “No Wheels to Ride,” which starts out kinda slow with Hunter going the earnest route over Allen’s organ before kicking into an awesome jam with Ralph playing his six-string razor like an Ax God while Watts and Griffith bend iron with big muscles and Hunter hammers away on the 88s. On “All the Young Dudes” and “One of the Boys” precursor “You Are One of Us” Hunter expresses his eternal gratitude to the band’s fans over crushing power chords while the boys sing along on the choruses and Allen plays swirling “Like a Rolling Stone” organ. Mott then moves on to the old-school rock ’n’ roller “Walking With a Mountain,” which falls into the “All the Way to Memphis” tradition and includes a brief salute to The Rolling Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.”
Hunter plays soul man giving it his all on “I Can Feel.” Female soul singers testify, Allen plays sustained organ notes, and suddenly you’re in a Baptist church listening to a sermon by a white guy with an Afro wearing dark sunglasses. Takes a while for this one to grow on you, but after a couple of listens you just may have a born-again moment. “Threads of Love” is a bit lighter on its feet than the LP’s other songs and has a Glam country feel; I’m ambivalent until the band launches into a hard rock boogie that proves Ralphs was one of the most underrated guitarists of his era.
“When My Mind’s Gone” is a precursor to Brain Caper’s “The Moon Upstairs.” Hunter plays the lunatic, singing at one point, “When my mind’s gone/ When both my minds gone” like he went out and bought a spare only to have them both go AWOL. This baby’s slow from beginning to end, and features Hunter accompanied only by piano and organ. It’s both powerful and passionate, but gives you a good ideas why Ralphs would ultimately defect–there’s no place in it for a guy looking to wail away on his guitar.
Mad Shadows is not as great an album as Brain Capers, All the Young Dudes, or 1973’s Mott. The material simply isn’t as good. But it’s a strong work by a band exploring the sonic possibilities of a hybrid of hard rock force and singer/ songwriter sincerity. It was a great idea, but it took Mott the Hoople a few more albums to strike the perfect balance. Still, neophytes should check it out, and it’s a must-own for young dudes of all ages.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
