Welcome to another edition of From My Collection. This past Friday, May 7, legendary video vixen Tawny Kitaen passed away at the age of 59. There were many young, attractive women who graced our favorite 80s metal and hard rock videos. Out of them all, Kitaen was the “it girl”. Her alluring looks and automobile acrobatics were half the reason Whitesnake’s 1987 self titled album catapulted the band to superstar status, selling nearly 10 million copies in America alone. In today’s essay, we explore what set this album apart from past Whitesnake releases and why it remains the quintessential pop metal masterpiece. Rest in power Tawny.
The year was 1987. Of all the bands who’d release blockbuster albums that year (Aerosmith, Def Leppard, Mötley Crüe), Whitesnake was the last band anyone would’ve expected to reach such heights. The post-Deep Purple outfit of David Coverdale floundered for a decade as a cult band. They found success in Europe and Asia, playing the same style of bluesy hard rock heard on Burn (1974) and Stormbringer (1974). There was only one problem. When it came to American audiences, this style was outdated by the late 70s and prehistoric by the early 80s.
Fortune changed with the 1984 release of their sixth album, Slide It In. The arrival of hotshot guitarist John Sykes signaled a new era for the band. Gone were the clunky clichés associated with bellbottomed jeans and aviator glasses. Slide It In saw Whitesnake modernizing their sound for the new decade, albeit 4 years in. The end result was a success. “Love Ain’t No Stranger” and “Slow an’ Easy” became FM rock radio hits. For the first time in a decade, Coverdale’s name was upon the lips of American headbangers from coast to coast; headbangers who were eager for his next move.
If you happened to be alive in the 80s, you know that three years is a long time. It’s especially a long time in the scope of rock and metal. Yet that’s exactly how long it took for Whitesnake to follow up Slide It In. There’s a plethora of reasons why. The main reason is that after the touring cycle for Slide It In, Coverdale began experiencing vocal troubles. This was due to a sinus infection that was so bad, doctors feared he’d never sing again. Thankfully, this wasn’t the case.
Coverdale soldiered on with a brand new lineup which, aside from Sykes, was completely different from the previous one. It was the beginning of a revolving door that proved just as Rainbow was Ritchie Blackmore’s solo project, Whitesnake was Coverdale’s. That said, it was this lineup of band that’d prove to be most successful, commercially and objectively speaking. Joining Coverdale and Sykes were returning bassist Neil Murray (who rejoined for the US reissue of Slide It In) and veteran drummer Aynsley Dunbar. Little did they know they were going to record the crown jewel of their careers.
Whitesnake may have been David Coverdale’s baby, but Whitesnake ’87 was John Sykes’ baby. Every last note of music you hear was the result of his brilliance. “Here I Go Again” and “Crying in the Rain” had already been written, recorded, and released on past Whitesnake albums, but the reinterpretations we know and love today wouldn’t have been possible without Sykes. His arena metal chops coupled with David Coverdale’s balladesque lyrics were a match made in heaven. These days, Coverdale tends to undermine Sykes’ contributions to the album, claiming that he wrote as much as 95% of the album’s guitar parts. I find this very hard to believe. Case in point: Listen to Sykes’ work on Thin Lizzy’s Thunder and Lightening (1983) and Blue Murder’s self titled debut (1989). The riffing and leads are virtually the same. And if Coverdale really had those shredding abilities, why would he need Sykes to come in and record them for him? As the old Purple song goes, “You Fool No One”.
Whitesnake opens with a revised spin on “Crying in the Rain”. What was once a standard blues rocker is transformed into a gigantic arena shaking anthem. Matter of fact, all the songs can be categorized as “gigantic arena shaking anthems”. Sykes’ guitars tower above all, heavy enough to level entire cities. Coverdale’s vocals soar like an eagle, wings spread to the heavens. Dunbar’s drums sound more like cannons, each burst a cry of war. And Murray’s bass…is practically inaudible. This is no surprise. 80s pop metal albums tended to put vocals and guitars up front, resulting in an occasionally thin production. Whitesnake filled this gap with both Dunbar’s drums and an array of atmospheric synthesizers provided by Don Airey.
The arena blues of “Crying in the Rain” is followed by the raging “Bad Boys”. Whitesnake was never a metal band, but there are a handful of metal songs in their catalog. This is one of them. “Bad Boys” recalls the glory of past chart dominating metal albums, Scorpions’ Love at First Sting and Judas Priest’s Defenders of the Faith. Aside from a singalong chorus, there is no hard rock to be found here. Sykes’ burning hot Euro riffage screams pure heavy metal, as does the lead riff to the following track, “Still of the Night”.
It seems the more time goes by, the more “Still of the Night” is praised as one of rock’s all time great epics and for good reason. This is as close to a perfect rock song as you could get. The mission of Whitesnake ’87 was to evenly balance the elements that made Whitesnake who they are (heavy metal, hard rock, and AOR). “Still of the Night” explores all three styles within the same song. The nasty lead riff and face melting solo is 80s metal, Coverdale’s sultry vocal performance conjures hazy echoes of 70s hard rock, and the underlying melodies wouldn’t sound out of place on a Journey album. What more could you ask for?
Side A closes with the signature song of Whitesnake’s career, “Here I Go Again”. Much like “Crying in the Rain”, “Here I Go Again” was also once a by the numbers blues ballad. The song’s era friendly reinvention went much further than the music itself. Its accompanying music video would go down in history as one of the most iconic of all time, perhaps only behind Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”. This was largely thanks to the breathtaking looks of one Ms. Tawny Kitaen. She wasn’t the first video vixen, but from that point on, she became thee video vixen. Just as Coverdale was the archetypal elder rock god, Kitaen was the archetypal heavy metal muse; a shining beacon of beauty. What Sykes did for Whitesnake musically, Kitaen did for Whitesnake visually. Without them, Whitesnake ’87 would’ve been just another Whitesnake album. Would it have been good? Sure. Coverdale had yet to steer us wrong. But by no means would it have become the behemoth that it did.
“Give Me All Your Love Tonight” opens side B with a blast of Aqua Net coated energy. Its upbeat romp and earworm of a chorus make it an arguably more appropriate album opener than “Crying in the Rain”, but that’s a debate for another day. On the musical flipside is the obligatory power ballad, and album mega hit #3, “Is This Love”. I’ve always said that the best AOR ballads are the ones that don’t sound of this world, but of a dream world. One that’s lit only by the gentle glow of retro neon lights. “Is This Love” is one of these ballads. The synthesizers are so lush, I feel I could float upon them like a cloud. I promise you I’m NOT tripping mushrooms as I write this, but even if I was, what difference would it make. If you don’t feel the same way about “Is This Love”, do you really have a soul?
Sitting smackdab in the middle is “Children of the Night”. More or less a companion to side A’s “Bad Boys”, “Children of the Night” is one of those rare full metal Whitesnake headbangers. If I were to toy with the track listing, this would’ve made a ferocious closer. I only say that because the album’s last two songs, as excellent as they are, stand out from the others. The joyous “Straight for the Heart” sounds like a metal song gone AOR, while the moody “Don’t Turn Away” sounds like an AOR song gone metal. I know. It’s confusing, perhaps even paradoxical. What I’m trying to say is that both songs could’ve been done by Survivor had Jim Peterik expanded upon the metallic tease of their “Children of the Night” (no relation to the Whitesnake song of the same name).
So what happened after the release of Whitesnake ’87? Well for starters, Coverdale fired the entire lineup. Why? That depends on who you ask. Some say Coverdale had a nervous breakdown and fired the members for “plotting against him”. Others say Geffen pressured him to sack the band for not being “MTV friendly”. Granted, Murray and Dunbar weren’t the most photogenic specimens in the world, but still. It was the dumbest fucking move of Coverdale’s career. Period. He assembled (surprise) another lineup and released the widely successful, yet significantly inferior Slip of the Tongue (1989). Meanwhile, Sykes released what would’ve been the follow up to Whitesnake ’87 in the form of Blue Murder’s self titled debut. Featuring Carmine Appice on drums and Tony Franklin on bass, Blue Murder should have instantly catapulted to the top of the arena rock pantheon. Unfortunately for Sykes, they too were signed to Geffen and thanks to his very efforts, Whitesnake were established as the label’s hard rock breadwinners, leaving him in the dust.
This edition of From My Collection might sound like it has an unhappy ending, but that’s anything but the case. While neither Coverdale nor Sykes would reach such creative and commercial heights again, Whitesnake ’87 stands strong as a relic of its era. It IS the 80s captured on one record. It has something for every rock fan, no matter what mood you’re in. Happy? Turn on Whitesnake ’87. Sad? Turn on Whitesnake ’87. Needing to take a late night drive down the highway with the windows down and the breeze flowing through your hair? Turn on Whitesnake ’87. Ready for an intimate evening with your lover? Turn on Whitesnake ’87. Writing a retrospective essay on Whitesnake ’87 and trying to figure out a proper closing sentence? Turn on Whitesnake ’87.