On Through the Night

Straight off the bat: the band disown/dislike this album so by that virtue alone it’s one of their better albums. But seriously, this is very much a curio in archive history – I suppose it’s still strictly a hard rock album, but Def Leppard never were all too certain about their own actual metalness and I’m not too sure myself. By the time they’d actually realised how to write more than two good songs per a record they’d all but ditched anything that could be considered NWOBHM for the frankly excellent AC/DC-derived hard rock of High N Dry. Then of course, they realised the fastest way out of Sheffield was viva pop music and they actually successful with that for a time being.

Def Leppard was technically one of the biggest bands to emerge from the NWOBHM movement – but the actual NWOBHM pedigree of this album is somewhat doubtful: metallic qualities aren’t really pronounced much outside of ‘Wasted’. Therefore we’d be best to compare this more to Demon than Maiden or Venom… but that in itself would be a little silly (did I mention that Leppard are a massive anomaly in the NWOBHM movement?) So in all actuality – and probably much to Joe Elliot’s delight – this is very difficult to judge as a metal record, as it really isn’t. It’s NWOBHM, yet not heavy metal if that makes any sense.

Interestingly – or is that amusingly? – it’s clear that though born and raised in the same rock ’n’ roll slum as those around them in the NWOBHM movement, Def Leppard had their eyes very much set on pop stardom even in their earliest days. ‘Hello America’ is of course what I’m talking about – it somewhat infamously alienated them to the British music press, and though this in itself is something I wholehearted endorse (has anyone actually read Kerrang! magazine lately, sheesh!) I can’t say the same for the song. Unadulterated shite. In as blunt terms as I can possibly describe. Why is it that British bands so often fall into the trap of figuring the only way to crack the American market is to sing about the nation itself? I think the ‘Dumb American’ idea has been greatly overstressed. Let’s just spell this out to end a problem that was fairly rife about 20-30 years ago (I know, I’m really helping matters, right?): Americans (nor peoples of any other nation, for that matter) aren’t inherently thick – you don’t sell records over there simply by singing about their nation. “Hey, they’re singing about us! I’m going to buy four copies of On Through the Night!” Def Leppard, having never left their native Sheffield, obviously were misguided enough to believe this was the case and as such inflicted us with this downright awful pop-rock song. Leppard’s signature vocal harmonies rear their ugly head here adding to the overwhelming cheese factor, as do some skittering synthesisers that make me cringe like a parent who’s just dropped their precious infant into a scolding bath. Ouch, the NSPCC is going to hear about that one! As I’m still at the crossroads between adulthood and being legally classified as a child I’d like to do the same – but unfortunately, I paid for this record out of my own pocket and therefore I don’t think this would stand up in court. Surprisingly enough, Def Leppard got a foot in the door with the American market with ‘Bringing on the Heartbreak’, a predictable yet successful ballad. So, from that alone one could devise that improved song writing was the key to Leppard’s success (again it’s amusing that they soon forgot how to do that… and they say the only joke about Def Leppard is “what’s got 9 arms and sucks?”).

As for the rest well it’s generally a sort of UFO/Scorpions/Lizzy derived hard rock with some frankly unwelcome quasi-progressive touches (see: the intro to ‘When the Walls Come Tumbling Down’). Song-craft is somewhat unsure but rather diverse as this Wounded Cougar really isn’t too sure at what they want to be yet. It would seem the rock world is all to keen to single out a band’s debut as their best; one only has to look at the world spate of unfocused, bumbling debuts to see that often this simply isn’t the case. The band wear their influences on their sleeves: the aforementioned three 70s hard rock bands rub shoulders with touches of AC/DC, T-Rex and even a bit of Killing Machine era Priest (or should that be Hell Bent For Leather? I mean I should be going for a bit of that ol’ ‘Hello America’ appeal myself, right?). Clichés are the order of the day. This is also true of the High N Dry record, but frankly though that was something of a clichéd hard rock record that wore its influences on its sleeve – it still has an undeniable charm to it and quite easily ranks as the band’s finest hour for me.

That said there are a couple of worthwhile moments present on this indecisive debut record. ‘Wasted’ is the band’s best claim to ever playing anything remotely metallic, and it’s not just that gives it its place as On Through the Night’s stellar track: it’s the only really track here that doesn’t leave something to be desired from. I love its lyrical ambiguity, too. Is the bottle of pills actually a bottle of pills? Or is it indeed a bottle of Pils (as in Holsten)? Something would reason me to believe that it could well be simple pilsner rather than any medication as the NHS had all but abandoned its hold on the South Yorkshire region given the ritual burning of those in the medical profession in and around 1978 due to a misunderstanding about the application of suppositories. Ahem, yes, but it’s one of Steve Clark’s best riffs and a hymn to getting hammered because there’s nothing better to do (which in this part of the world may well be the case, it's probably all these rolling hills and sheep). It’s a very weird song for Def Leppard and I suppose as good a reason as any to actually own this album. In contrast to a lot of the NWOBHM movements excitable, youthful vibrancy in, say, Diamond Head’s debut this is a NWOBHM anthem just a downtrodden one. It’s perhaps the most apt song the band’s early incarnation have ever written considering they lost both their guitarists to alcohol abuse (Pete Willis being fired for taking the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle a little too seriously and Steve Clark dying after years of excess). Opener ‘Rock Brigade’, too, proves its worth with a solidly stomping ode to, well, a rock brigade. That said, Joe Elliot doesn’t seems all too enthused by this song, and seems to have put more effort into his backing vocals than the lead. Point in case: “Oh no, it’s the rock brigade… ROCK BRIGADE! Oh no, it’s the rock brigade”. Could he be any more excited at the prospect of singing in a rock band? He makes Kevin Heybourne sound like Bruce Dickinson!

Overall, I’d say this is nothing truly of note considering the wealth of better NWOBHM or for that matter, just hard rock in the early 80s. Nothing truly of note here – barring one song – and certainly not a mandatory purchase for NWOBHM fans. I suppose if anything, it’s a tribute to how artistic integrity was never really Def Leppard’s forte.

Potential Spinal Tap album title: On Through the Shite