Till Deaf Do Us Part - Critical Reception

Critical Reception

Joe Geesin of Get Ready to Rock wrote of the remaster "Till Deaf Do Us Part was another great set. Also from 1981, it opened with 'Rock 'n' Roll Preacher'; yes there's a nod at 'Let There Be Rock' but in the nicest possible way. 'Lock Up Your Daughters' dropped the boogie and was solid thumping rock song. Still classically Noddy Holder, but less cheese, not classic Slade but some damn good hard rock with that boot stomping Slade trademark. A very underrated period of the band's career."

Upon release, Kerrang gave a positive review. "Slade are a much needed tonic and it's amazing in the sorry days of 81 that Britain hasn't made that much more of them. Slade still fail on chart action. Maybe it's because they're spreadeagled between two stools, undecided whether to stay as old teenyboppers and appeal to Stacey and Tracey (now married with kids but with fond memories of the past), or whether to go out and capture the suddenly fashionable heavy metal markets. Then again, many of Slade's more recent works just haven't had the same instantaneous irresistible quality of the glitter rock days or that is until this release. At last their collective stack heels are planted firmly where they belong, that old habit of writing classic material has been rekindled. Holder's in fine fettle as he squats in the pulpit for 'Rock and Roll Preacher'. Recorded with a minimum of fuss, this track comes close to capturing the feelings of Slade live, Holder chortling wickedly through every line.

It's followed by traditional Slade on 'Lock Up Yer Daughters' the recent release that seemed destined to put them in the upper reaches of the charts, but never quite made it. The title track though, forms the album's anthem, a roistering nearly messy piece of bawdy class, where they sound like the Brit equivalent of AC/DC. Funny that, have you noticed how Brian Johnson and Noddy Holder both have the same often awesome nasal tone? 'Ruby Red' and 'She Brings Out The Devil In Me' put a size nine boot through the door and there's plenty more positive noises on side two, opening with the frolicsome 'Night To Remember' followed by the ballad of 'M' Hat M Coat' a sort of Queen meeting Bauhaus concept. 'It's Your Body Not Your Mind' should justifiably be the next stab at the charts, although I haven't quite decided where they nicked the keyboard bits from. The remaining four tracks really kick up the dirt. 'Let The Rock Roll Out of Control' should sound superb live, The Was No Lady That Was My Wife, ' is played with the energy of bashing two dustbin lids together, 'Knuckle Sandwich Nancy' is a classic in Slade humour and 'Till Deaf Resurrected' is a tribute both to themselves and their audiences. Uncompromising entertainment guaranteed.

In the 14 November 1981 issue of Sounds Magazine, Dave Hill (not Slade's Dave Hill) reviewed the album, stating "Here they are again, Slade, minus the shiny suits (a few guide-dogs-worth there, I’ll bet), but just the same, making a religion out of noise, drawing cartoons of themselves in the bar top slops, acting off, and being useless. Here is an album hinging entirely on the lame pun of its title: a mutilated extract of the C of E’s greatest hit, implying both blind fervour and irrelevance towards churchy ideas of properness. ‘Deaf’ - what we all crave and expect as a transitory effect of exposure to a testifying Slade. At least they come clean about the ritual nature of what they’re up to. They open with a seedy organ intro over which N. Holder proclaims the glory of exorcism through “this rock and this roll”. But what does this magnificent preamble urge us zealots into? “Lock Up Yer Daughters”. That’s what. Slade proceed to muddle their way through two sides of lads, lager and loose women (as they would have it). Bandits in a play-pen, tearaways in a time-warp. It’s sad. Not only is the record boring and deliberately thick, but it doesn’t even work on those terms. Slade sound dreadfully worn out, about as convincing as Alexander Haig on a peace march. I’ll admit though, that the guitarist comes from good stock, and that his mum and dad had plenty of taste."

In the 14 November 1981 issue of Melody Maker, Carol Clerk positively reviewed the album under the headlining title Deaf before dishonour. The review stated ""Dearly beloved brothers and sisters…we are gathered here tonight to join this rock and this roll in earholy catastrophe…” So screameth the Rev Noddy Holder, and so beginneth the first track on the album, and hey! You better lock up your daughters for Slade are back - bigger and badder than ever. That the band have regained their confidence, that they’re as merciless a rocking machine as any other group in this generally heartless and synthetic year and that they’re gonna blow their crowds into tiny little pieces on next month’s tour is as plain as hat on Noddy’s head from the opening bars of “Rock and Roll Preacher (Hallelujah I’m on Fire)”. And it’s all confirmed on the following numbers - numbers like “Lock Up Your Daughters” (which inexplicably failed to devastate the singles chart as it should have), “Red Wine” and “She Brings Out the Devil in Me” – all stompers in the well-loved traditions of Slade. Other tracks like “A Night to Remember” and “Let the Rock Roll Out of Control” remind you that the band are ferocious in other aspects of the moving arts as in straightforward stomp. The final endearment is their sense of humour, evident from the tongue in Nod’s cheek that balances the rasp in his throat. It’s a humour that persuades you that songs like “That Was No Lady That Was My Wife” and “It’s Your Body Not Your Mind” are funny rather than fervent and offensive. Anybody who can rhyme “IQ” with “psyche you” has to be given the benefit of the doubt! While Dave Hill’s souring guitar instrumental “M’Hat M’Coat” points to a definite versatility, the album on the whole reaffirms Slade as one of our most enduring and uncompromising bands…till deaf do us part."