Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. Unfortunately, today’s essay is written in memoriam, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hit close to home. By now, you’ve all heard of the passing of John Sykes at the far too young age of 65. To call his loss “immense” would be an understatement. From Tygers of Pan Tang to Thin Lizzy to Whitesnake to Blue Murder, his ’80s run still remains undefeated to this day. He was a genius songwriter, powerhouse singer, and one of the best to ever pick up the guitar, all qualities which will be explored in today’s essay revisiting Blue Murder’s masterpiece self titled debut. This one goes out to you John. We know you’re ripping it up in rock n’ roll heaven with Philo as this very paragraph is being typed. Rest in power.
The colossal success of Whitesnake’s self titled 1987 album came to the surprise of just about everybody. After years of failing to break into the American market, only to finally achieve solid success with 1984’s Slide It In, even the most diehard Whitesnake fans (many of whom were Deep Purple fanatics going back to the ’70s) couldn’t have anticipated the way Whitesnake ’87 would penetrate the very fabric of American pop culture, dominating MTV and pushing nearly 10 million units in the States alone. Whitesnake was everywhere, and the then 35 year old David Coverdale quickly became a sex symbol overnight, gracing the walls of teenage girls from coast to coast. Joining him for this victory lap was an all-star band of Vivian Campbell (guitars), Adrian Vandenberg (guitars), Rudy Sarzo (bass), and Tommy Aldridge (drums). Missing from the mix? The man largely responsible for the album’s success, John Sykes.
There are conflicting stories regarding Sykes’ dismissal from Whitesnake. Coverdale claims Sykes was fired for conspiring against him and making band decisions behind his back. Sykes countered this, saying the entire band was systemically fired after recording their parts, which they were. Save for Vandenberg, who provided the “Here I Go Again” solo and occasional overdub, and Coverdale himself, not a single member of the Whitesnake ’87 touring band played on the album. Furthermore, it’s well known by now that Coverdale was pressured by Geffen to assemble a band who was more “MTV friendly”. After all, this was the hair band era, and it’s not like young women were swooning over Aynsley Dunbar, whose music was being covered by Black Sabbath in 1970!
Now considering Sykes was far younger than Coverdale and definitely had the looks, it’s safe to say his dismissal from the band came as the result of a non-cosmetic matter, perhaps a power struggle with Coverdale? After all, when you look at the back of the album, it credits all songs (save for the rearrangements of “Crying in the Rain” and “Here I Go Again”) to “Coverdale and Sykes”, and it only takes one listen to figure out where the bulk of those riffs and melodies came from. No matter how you slice it, the year was 1987 and John Sykes was band-less…but not for long.
Come February of that year, Sykes returned back to England armed and ready with a ideas for a new batch of songs. Not one to rest on his laurels, he quickly assembled a new supergroup, consisting of journeyman drummer Cozy Powell, bassist Tony Franklin (The Firm), and singer Ray Gillen (Black Sabbath). This lineup was not to last for long. Powell would go onto join Black Sabbath and Gillen would get the call for another supergroup, Badlands. Filling their positions were Carmine Appice (Vanilla Fudge, Cactus, Rod Stewart) and Tony Martin (Black Sabbath) respectively. Martin too would back out, leaving the trio to record their debut album singer-less.
While both Derek St. Holmes (Ted Nugent) and David Glen Eisley (Giuffria) auditioned for Blue Murder, neither satisfied all parties, so with time on the line, industry svengali John Kalodner made the pivotal suggestion of Sykes handling the vocals, just as he did on the initial demos. Up until this point, Sykes had only done backing vocals, largely comfortable with writing songs and laying down those iconic riffs and solos that made him a household name. Would he be able to handle the assignment? Come the release of Blue Murder on April 24, 1989, that answer was a resounding yes.
As we drop the needle on Blue Murder, we’re greeted by the larger than life, pummeling arena metal of “Riot”. With its huge production and larger than life arrangement, “Riot” sets the tone for the whole affair, which is truly a product of its era. The drums are massive, the basslines are subtly groovy, and Sykes’ high voltage riffage explodes through the speakers. As for the axe-slinger’s vocal abilities, it begged the question: How come it took until NOW for him to front a band? Equal parts supersonic range and primal soul, Sykes could belt out vocals with the same conviction as his old boss, making him a triple threat (singing, songwriting, guitar playing).
Following that is the gloriously sleazy, albeit perhaps cringe-inducingly titled “Sex Child”. With its bawdy lyricism, swaggering riffs, and heavenly chorus, it very well might be the best Whitesnake ’87 song that never was. Taking this into consideration, it’s a song like “Sex Child” that gives credence to the argument that Sykes was the primary writer of that blockbuster album. Of course, due to its suggestive lyrical content, there’s no way Geffen could release it as a single (Could you imagine Casey Kasem uttering the song title?), but it would absolutely hold its own next to “Still of the Night” if it was.
Perhaps the signature song on the album, “Valley of the Kings” stands out for a number of reasons. For one, it’s the longest song on the album, clocking in at just under 8 minutes. In that timespan, Sykes and company takes us on an epic glam metal voyage, treating us to atmospheric synths, plodding riffs, and fantastical lyricism. On an album of otherwise fun songs, “Valley” follows in the tradition of ’70s and ’80s epics before it, taking the listener on a musical head trip to a land unknown. Despite its anti-commercial demeanor, the song received the music video treatment and became a cult classic amongst headbangers.
Also receiving the music video treatment? Side A closer and MOST commercial song on the album, “Jelly Roll”. Like “Sex Child”, “Jelly Roll” is filled with sexually tinged lyrics, but is far more accessible, both musically and lyrically. The Whitesnake and Zeppelin comparisons are evident, especially for how the song begins as a quirky acoustic rocker before plugging in and kicking into high gear. It feels like a throwback to the ’70s, when a band would throw in an acoustic leaning number to shake up the overall feel of the album, which I assume was the intention here.
As we flip over to side B, we’re greeted by the band’s namesake track, which is a ’70s hard rock throwback under ’80s glam metal pretenses if I’ve ever heard one. Most notable on this song is Appice’s shuffling drumbeat, which sounds straight off of a Cactus album circa 1971. I could only imagine the excitement of both Sykes and Franklin, young lads during Appice’s creative and commercial heyday, hearing the veteran lay down such a nasty, memorable beat for them to rock and groove over. By the second chorus, we’re all “screaming blue murder” and “scheming to survive”.
Next up, the obligatory AOR ballad that came with the territory of every ’80s hard and heavy release, “Out of Love”. Now while most bands desperately chased this formula in hopes of a hit single, Sykes damn near perfected the craft on Whitesnake ’87 (i.e. “Is This Love”, bonus track “Looking for Love”). “Out of Love” is no exception to this rule, capturing the listener with its ethereal synths, soul-scorching lyricism, and passionate vocals. Even the most hardened of headbangers tear up at Sykes’ tale of love lost and devastating heartbreak.
The mood is instantly lifted with one of my personal favorite cuts off this personal favorite album, “Billy”. Loosely based around the motif of infamous outlaw Billy the Kid, this tough as fuck heavy rocker (yeah, I said it) has to be one of the best law-evading anthems of all time. Every time I crank it behind the wheel, I can’t help but envision an army of police vehicles trailing behind me, only for yours truly to outdrive them, Burt Reynolds style. They say music invokes images in your head that other artforms simply can’t. “Billy” is a brilliant example of that. How I envision the lyrics of a song might be different from how you do so, and that’s the beauty of it all.
“Valley of the Kings” was not alone in its grandiose ambitions. Equally noteworthy in the “epic” department is the middle eastern inspired “Ptolemy”. Filled with exotic melodies and hypnotic vocal tapestries, it almost comes off as Sykes’ attempt at one of the more adventurous moments in the ’70s Rainbow or Scorpions canon. Ritchie Blackmore and Uli Jon Roth always had a flair for the unusual, hence why the character of their playing is so unique. Sykes was no exception to this philosophy. While obviously inspired by Blackmore, Roth, Gary Moore, Jimmy Page, and so forth, he created his own singular voice, which is highlighted all over this epic glam freakout.
Rounding it all out, another personal favorite, “Black-Hearted Woman”. While I can’t unequivocally say Blue Murder saved the best for last, they sure saved the heaviest for last. Explosive and up-tempo, teetering on the knife edge of speed metal, “Black-Hearted Woman” is a full metal punch to the gut, sounding like a throwback to Sykes’ Tygers of Pan Tang and Thin Lizzy days. Ain’t nothing glamorous about this one! Speaking of Thin Lizzy, one can’t help but notice the breakdown riff and finger tapping solo being nearly identical to their ’83 classic, “Cold Sweat”. It wouldn’t be the first time Sykes “plagiarized” himself, having done the same with Thin Lizzy’s “Bad Habits” 6 years earlier, which was clearly a rewrite of Tygers’ “The Story So Far”.
Unfortunately, despite everything it had going for it, Blue Murder was a commercial failure in America. There are conspiracy theories as to why, which I won’t entertain on this here essay out of respect to those involved with the album during this mournful time. That being said, as the years went by, more came to realize the genius of Blue Murder. It constantly finds itself on “Best Glam Metal Album” lists, even by outlets this here online metal journo can’t stand (You can take a wild guess). I guess the point I’m getting at is if this essay introduces even one person to the genius of Blue Murder and John Sykes, mission accomplished. Again, rest in power John. Thank you for all the killer jams, which will live on in eternity.
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