In 1934, the Austrian legal philosopher Hans Kelsen published his 'Pure Theory Of Law' that sought to site the authority of law in terms of its social origins or 'norms'. Thus, byelaws gain their authority from the norm of legislation which in turn gets its authority from the norm of parliament (trust me, I'm going somewhere with this). Ultimately, all legal power can be traced back to, and legitimised by, a single source of authority, what Kelsen termed the 'grundnorm'. Had Kelsen taken the time to apply his theory to the discography of Slade and its place in the seventies Glam Rock canon (he didn't die until April 1973, so there's no excuse for him not having a crack), then he may well have located the grundnorm of Glam in 'Cum On Feel The Noize', a song that in many ways encapsulates everything Glam Rock aspired to or could ever aspire to be.
There's no mistakes this time, no loose threads and no missed gears - Slade are firing on all cylinders, shooting with both barrels, cooking with gas, running on a full tank and every other cliché you can imagine, so much so that this entered the charts straight at number one. No messing and no wonder - the verses pile up and slide into the thundering chorus as if they were blown there by a hurricane and for once, Holder's lyrics have an agenda you can follow in that they are both a playful 'fuck you' to the critics ("So you think my singing's out of time, well it makes me money") and a self deprecating, self assessment of a band who are as surprised as anyone to find themselves at number one for the fourth time ("And I don't know why. I don't know why, anymore").
'Cum On Feel The Noize' boils down to a frank acknowledgement of what both Slade and the genre at large were all about, and it's nothing to do with political statements, a social conscience or confessional songwriting - come on feel the noise, that's all you need to do to have a good time. By breaking rock music down to its most basic, primal components, Slade produced not only their best song, but also one of the most enduring statements of the era and a touchstone for the times (if you ever want to explain to 'the kids' today what Glam was all 'about', then just play them this. 'Nuff said). And coupled with 'Block Buster' it provided a much needed one-two British counterpunch antidote to the sickly stench wafting off some of the previous number ones, the last two of which combined to keep Slade's own 'Goodbye T' Jane' at number two. Hindsight has shown where the folly lay.
There's no mistakes this time, no loose threads and no missed gears - Slade are firing on all cylinders, shooting with both barrels, cooking with gas, running on a full tank and every other cliché you can imagine, so much so that this entered the charts straight at number one. No messing and no wonder - the verses pile up and slide into the thundering chorus as if they were blown there by a hurricane and for once, Holder's lyrics have an agenda you can follow in that they are both a playful 'fuck you' to the critics ("So you think my singing's out of time, well it makes me money") and a self deprecating, self assessment of a band who are as surprised as anyone to find themselves at number one for the fourth time ("And I don't know why. I don't know why, anymore").
'Cum On Feel The Noize' boils down to a frank acknowledgement of what both Slade and the genre at large were all about, and it's nothing to do with political statements, a social conscience or confessional songwriting - come on feel the noise, that's all you need to do to have a good time. By breaking rock music down to its most basic, primal components, Slade produced not only their best song, but also one of the most enduring statements of the era and a touchstone for the times (if you ever want to explain to 'the kids' today what Glam was all 'about', then just play them this. 'Nuff said). And coupled with 'Block Buster' it provided a much needed one-two British counterpunch antidote to the sickly stench wafting off some of the previous number ones, the last two of which combined to keep Slade's own 'Goodbye T' Jane' at number two. Hindsight has shown where the folly lay.
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