Roller Rink Rock

I thought I better listen to a few records I bought last time Sonja, the Hammer and I spent an afternoon on the Drive before I go out and buy Anne Murray's excellent Christmas cd.

Two of the records are by Mott the Hoople. Sort of strange I have not owned both of them for decades. Big Mott the Hoople fan I am. I am not so keen on many bands to have to have every last one of their records. There is a much better version of "Walking With a Mountain" than the one I am familiar with on one of the records. What great fucking music!

The other record is Slade's "Nobody's Fool." It was the one hole in my Slade section of the pile of vinyl I lugged with my dog loving Hockey family from shithole punk rock apartments to arachnoid basement suites to rented houses, all owned by landlords that never gave a shit what was going on inside their house unless there was a chance they thought they might get their dick sucked by a sick whore short on rent smiling like a politician on a Hawaiian vacation who has not had a meal in quite some time.

Odd the Slade record had not been with me for decades as well. It was the album Slade was promoting when I saw them at the now-closed roller rink - my first motherfucking rock show. I got so fucking wasted. I was a massive Slade fan when I was a sweet little rock 'n' roller. All that glitter shit. The old skinhead crew from Dope City, the skins who were not racist cunts, sharpened their punk rock fangs on Slade.

Slade were a little over the top by the time they noticed they had enough Slade fans in Sliverville to make it worth their while to put on one of the top few concerts ever put on in a town few outsiders, nevermind rock stars, dare to linger. The record is not bad. Listening to Noddy makes wonder if he was not the guy who prepared my ears for the singing of Shithead and Rotten.