Suzi Quatro - Can The Can

As glam rock debut albums go, you'll have to search a long way to find one that outclasses Suzi Quatro's opening shot. Though her fame and, of course, her hit singles thus far were based around songwriters Nicky Chinn and Mike Chapman's guileless ability to crank out the classics, away from the glare of TV and radio play the pair allowed Quatro and partner Len Tuckey full rein. The result was an album of several very distinct parts, inextricably linked by the sheer power of the Quatro personality. The heart of Suzi Quatro lies in the band's choice of covers. Harking back to Quatro's years in Detroit clubland, there's a Slade-meets-Stonesy grind through "I Wanna Be Your Man," a raucous blast through "All Shook Up," and, restating the song's claim to be the best rock & roller any Briton ever wrote, Johnny Kidd's "Shaking All Over," garageland sexuality oozing out from every pore. Chinnichap's "Primitive Love," one of the finest songs that the duo ever left unnoticed on an LP, then echoes that same intent, seething percussion and unearthly crowd sounds building around a jungle chant that reduces Quatro's characteristic cries to a breathy growl that is pure animal seduction. Of Quatro/Tuckey's own contributions, "Glycerine Queen" (already familiar from a B-side) and "Shine My Machine" are the most in character, straightforward rockers bolstered by the band's already trademark roiling rhythm. "Skin Tight Skin," on the other hand, is the most adventurous, bucking the formula in favour of a slow swing and a vocal that is straight out of West Side Story. Suzi Quatro remains one of the most nakedly sexual albums of the entire glam rock epoch; and one of the hottest debuts of the decade.

Suzi Quatro - Quatro

After the electric vitality of its predecessor and the prepossessing energy of her first four singles, Suzi Quatro put out a second album that was a dreadful disappointment, the fault (one assumes) of having been cut so quickly after its predecessor that nobody involved in the process had time to even catch her or his breath. Just three Quatro/Tuckey originals make it on, and one of them, "Klondyke Kate," is little more than a throwaway, while Nicky Chinn and Mike Chapman's contributions, too, are uncharacteristically lacklustre; the still vital "Devil Gate Drive" notwithstanding, of course. Of course, there are mitigating circumstances. The Chinnichap duo itself was in transition at this time, trying to retool a super-successful but hideously hidebound writing formula toward a less glam-entrenched listening audience. The recently discovered Smokie was to be the prime beneficiary of this new attitude, but the next few Quatro singles, too, reflected the then-prevalent belief that "mature" songs were the way to go; and "mature," in those days, meant not having quite so much fun as they used to. Neither "Too Big" nor "The Wild One" are classic Quatro, even if the performances themselves are as committed as ever, while the dour mood conveyed by those efforts is only amplified by the strictly unimaginative choice in rock & roll covers that complete the set. Every bar band in the land cut its teeth on "Keep a Knockin'," "Trouble," "Move It," and "A Shot of Rhythm and Blues." Very few were still playing them two albums later. Only a wild and wildly unexpected rendition of "Hit the Road Jack" truly salvages the show, and that's not really saying much; novelty songs always stand out when there's nothing else to laugh at. Ultimately, of course, Quatro would be seen as a mere hiccup in a career that had many, many years left to run; and many more twists and turns to take. At the time, however, another monarch had quietly slipped from its throne; another spangle had dropped off the glam rock crown. It really was all rather sad.