I want more, more, more, more, I want some more sweet satisfaction to soothe my soul…

Long ago and far away before I became the enlightened man I am I was a little rougher around the edges. I was influenced no doubt by my peers who were of a crasser less refined variety than me and one young woman who wore an Italian combat jacket a Deep Purple t-shirt and leather mini skirt with combat boots. My guess is that young woman had more influence than my crass friends.

This influence resulted in me attending the Come an’ Get It Whitesnake show at the Royal Court in Liverpool. Little did I know this was the last time Whitesnake would tour as the sweaty blues rock band they used to be before finally morphing into something much more glamorous and acceptable to the US market and MTV.

I have no idea how good or bad the show was as I was distracted, nothing can compare to combat boots and mini skirts for distraction, throw in a combat jacket and long curly brunette hair and the teen male mind cannot pay attention to the Moody/Marsden guitar interplay, Jon Lords organ or the power house Ian Paice drumming, add the attitude of Suzi Quattro next to you and all hope is lost.

In fact to this day I cannot remember a single song played but when I hear the track Ready and Willing I have a very strong sensory memory. The smell of sweat, cheap beer and perfume mingled with the scent of marijuana. It’s a heady mix to be sure. Whitesnake play to most of the lowest common denominators in their lyrical content and once Coverdale traded in the working rock band for a collection of easier on the eye spandex clad musicians things got better for him monetarily and the image improved and the videos are legendary.

IMG_6536So this week I have been listening to the legendary in it’s own time Live In The Heart of the City which along with Ready and Willing is enough Whitesnake for one man. I still to this day have no idea why Mr Coverdale and the boys are so jaundiced in their appearance.

I can sit here and bask in the memories of that sweaty Royal Court show. I assume there was double entendre’s a plenty, suggestive thrusting from the stage and some stellar slide guitarring. It was for a long time the only way you could get to see so many ex-members of Deep Purple in one place, I really wish I had better memories of the music.

Luckily probably for me my combat booted siren later that month fell for the charms of a young man with a job and a Triumph motorcycle as I fell under the say of a patchouli scented Tangerine Dream fan. This brings me full circle to tonights listening pleasure of Tangerine Dreams Alpha Centauri which is definitely more terrifying than Whitesnake and may cause nightmares for the rest of the night.



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