You can't fault The Skids for lack of ambition. This, their second album. Songs to sing on the way to the match. On the terraces. On Friday night wuth a bevvie. It was of the tomes and they were rousing ones. Top of the Pops was great every Thursday night for five years. Turbulent political times. Here was another great band to align with. To put on when you got hime from school and waited for your tea when mum and dad got home. A deceptively thoughtful rollercoaster ride for teenage hormones and black sheep thinkers.
Produced by Bill Nelson. He helped moved the band's sound on to the point where they sounded like an impressive leggy 800 metre runner coming off the final bend and pressing for medals in an Olympic Final behind Coe or Juantorena. The original sleeve was quickly withdrawn and replaced after a furore about Nazi imagery. It was something many flirted with although it was evident Skids followed the right line. I was deeply besotted with Working For The Yankee Dollar. I haven't listened much to this but I certainly will do. The whole thing sounds fighting fit. coming up to fifty years on.
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