A Love Song From Slade Before They Became Slade
Long before the stomping glam-rock anthems and glitter-dusted chaos, Slade were still calling themselves Ambrose Slade, working out their identity in smoky rehearsal rooms and tiny clubs. From their 1969 debut Beginnings, “If This World Were Mine” is one of those early gems that reveals who they were before the world knew what they would become. It’s tender, surprisingly vulnerable, and miles away from the raw, foot-stomping shout that would define their 70s success.
What makes this track fascinating is its tone. Instead of the raucous energy later associated with Noddy Holder, you hear a young band still rooted in the softer side of the 60s. The performance leans into a dreamy, almost romantic mood, as if they were channeling the era’s last breaths before rock toughened up. Dave Hill’s guitar is gentle rather than flamboyant, while Jim Lea lays down a melodic foundation that hints at the sophistication he would bring to Slade’s songwriting in the decade ahead.
There’s also an innocence in the way the band approaches the theme of devotion. They weren’t yet the confident hitmakers of “Cum On Feel the Noize” or “Mama Weer All Crazee Now.” Here, they sound like four young musicians trying to capture the purity of wishing the whole world could shrink into a simple moment of closeness. Even Noddy’s vocal, later famous for its gravelly punch, carries a softness that feels almost unfamiliar.
Listening now, “If This World Were Mine” becomes more than just a track from a debut album. It’s a snapshot of Slade before fame hardened the edges, before the big stages and explosive choruses. It shows the band in a state of becoming, still shaped by the warmth of 60s pop and soul, still reaching for the emotional clarity that would eventually turn them into one of Britain’s most beloved rock acts. It’s a reminder that even the loudest bands begin quietly, searching for their voice in the hush before the storm.