Mott The Hoople: All The Young Dudes - 1972
This was where the brief but glorious Mott The Hoople Phase Two began and it is popularly thought to be the album where the band were “saved from oblivion” by David Bowie. That is not entirely the whole truth.
Yes, he gave them the monster hit single All The Young Dudes and produced the album, assisted by Mick Ronson, but I am pretty sure that an awful lot of the material was there anyway and I also find myself questioning just how much a strong character like Ian Hunter would be told what to do, even by David Bowie.
Nevertheless, his contribution was obviously there, big time, but a lot of it has become somewhat mythologised over the years. What Bowie clearly and indisputably did, however, was to re-unite a rapidly fragmenting band and give them a purpose - a new raison d'être - together with a renewed vigour and confidence. To coin a more contemporary phrase - he gave them their mojo back. Released in September 1972, it was here, together with the hit single, that Mott The Hoople were catapulted, almost overnight, to their roller coaster two year period of glam rock majesty.
Hey you - you with the glasses.....
As well as the afore-mentioned iconic single, there is some impressive 70s rock on there. The band’s riffy cover of The Velvet Underground’s Sweet Jane is an absolute delight and it completely trumps the original, in my view.
Check out that great 70s stereo separation too - you can use this an the perfect example to demonstrate that typically seventies stereo sound as bass, drums, Stonesy cowbell, crystal clear acoustic guitar and electric guitar all merge wonderfully well to back Ian Hunter's deliberately Reed-esque vocal. I remember first hearing this as a fourteen year-old and just loving it. It was a superb, confident opener to the album, showing a group with new-found balls.
The funky-ish and strangely soulful Momma's Little Jewel is a considerably underrated song, a bit overshadowed by fading (albeit wonderfully) as it does via a broken tape loop sound effect straight into the iconic All The Young Dudes. It also retains its false start part where the music grinds to a halt early on and Hunter shouts out to drummer Buffin - "Buff, don't stop, carry on...". It is a nice quirky bit to retain and sort of exemplifies the group's somehow shambolic, but much-loved approach.
Now, here we go then, All The Young Dudes. I have heard the title track hundreds (probably thousands) of times since 1972, but I never tire of it. That guitar intro always, without fail, gives me goosebumps. You still can't beat the bit at end either where Hunter shouts out "hey you, you with the glasses...". Once more, like Sweet Jane, it is a track that successfully merges acoustic and electric guitars. Incidentally, a sometimes overlooked bit of trivia is that Bowie's first offering to bassist Overend Watts was Suffragette City. He returned a few days later with a "great new song" for Mott and kept Suffragette for himself and the Ziggy Stardust album. There are also stories that have circulated over the years that he also offered them Drive-In Saturday and that Mott turned it down. Who knows? Anyway, they chose Dudes and the rest is history.
Then we get the rhythmic, infectious, syncopated shuffle of Sucker - a track that has always intrigued me lyrically - which precedes the riff-powered Stonesy rock majesty of Jerkin' Crocus, complete with leery seventies lyrics. "I know what she wants - a judo hold on a black man's balls..." is one good example. There is sexual imagery all over the song, to be honest and it is one of Mott's best down 'n' dirty rockers. Some Bowie influence can be detected (maybe) on the song's decadence but the backing vocals on Sucker are certainly very Bowie-esque from his Man Who Sold The World period.
One Of The Boys is a copper-bottomed, stonking laddish Mott rock anthem, with a great old-style telephone ring intro, but, unfortunately, organist Verden Allen’s prog-rock-ish Soft Ground is a real, contrasting low point. Basically poor old Verden's voice was positively dreadful. That was often the way with bands in those days, though, everyone got their chance to contribute. Fair enough, I suppose, but it really should have been left on the cutting-room floor.
Guitarist Mick Ralphs' Ready For Love/After Lights is much better, however, with a great hook, and was later covered by his new band, Bad Company. The After Lights instrumental part is probably drawn out a bit too long, but this was 1972, remember - the longer the better.
Ian Hunter's stark, heavily orchestrated ballad, Sea Diver, a song that went on to give its name to the group's fan club (set up by a then teenage future rock journalist/author Kris Needs) concludes what is a most satisfying piece of early 70s rock. It was a great improvement on the band’s previous albums and heralded what would be Mott's ephemeral, but glorious "glam" period. Things would be great for the next two years.
The non-album session tracks from this album's recording are -
Black Scorpio, which was a prototype version of Momma's Little Jewel - it is considerably faster than the eventual cut and heavier. There is more of a frantic, rocking feel to it that may actually have suited the album better and there is some great, fuzzy guitar and bass interplay near the end.
Ride On The Sun was an early version of Sea Diver. It is similarly moving and plaintive, Ian Hunter singing over a piano backing. The string orchestration, however, is far more subtle and less bombastic, while organist Verden Allen's contribution is much more noticeable. The is also no huge, dramatic orchestrated part. For me it is a more appealing version and one with slightly more soul.
