Dave Hill was explaining how Slade ended up stranded in the Bahamas, with an unpaid hotel bill, a missing organiser and some threatening visitors, when I started wondering whether the man from MOJO interviewing him would ever get to his next question. Dave had taken modelling work to earn money, Jim Lea had written home expressing concern about what he was wearing, and we still needed to establish how everyone got out.
“Mind you, we did escape,” Dave added, which was reassuring.
We were there to hear about his new solo album, Dirty Foot Lane, and I’d arrived as someone who fucking loves Slade. Spending an evening listening to Dave Hill, hearing the record and getting to say hello afterwards was already a fairly unbeatable proposition. The information about his dog’s bowel movements was an unexpected bonus.
Dave is a brilliant storyteller, with voices for everyone and an enthusiasm for the details that makes you forget what the original question was. During the Bahamas adventure, those included the young band discovering air conditioning, mistaking a bidet for somewhere to wash your feet and enthusiastically following instructions to charge things to the room. When the organiser disappeared, they were left with the bill and, in Dave’s telling, some visitors who sounded like they’d arrived from a gangster film.
Our MOJO host handled the wandering with good humour, eventually admitting he’d been briefed to keep Dave on track. By then, a question about a song had demonstrated its potential to become a substantial account of buying property in Solihull.
Dave had turned up for a viewing in a huge hat, only to discover a large picture of himself on an upstairs wall. The homeowner’s daughter was a fan, although her father apparently saw more immediate value in increasing the asking price once he learned a pop star was interested.
Fans subsequently occupied Dave’s treehouse while he was away, with one putting up a picture of Donny Osmond. Recalling this particular violation, Dave told us: “I thought, that’s disgusting.”
He also gave us Windsor, his enormous dog, whose adventures involved an escape, the police and a neighbour taking exception to a dump on his lawn. Dave recreated the complaint with enough enjoyment that I’d happily have heard the neighbour’s side too.
Somewhere among all this, we learned how the album came together. Dave talked about teaching himself Logic, taking a laptop on his travels and gradually developing his writing and singing. During lockdown, he worked while his wife watched Tipping Point, although she remained unconvinced by the vocals she could hear without the accompanying music in his headphones. Dave’s suggestion that she return to Tipping Point seemed a reasonable attempt to preserve the working relationship.
He was candid about finding the confidence to sing after spending years alongside Noddy Holder. Noddy encouraged him to make something of his own and suggested working with his son, Django, who produced the album and happened to be sitting directly in front of me.
When Django joined the conversation, he confirmed that studio sessions had accommodated plenty of storytelling. Dave clearly valued working with someone who would challenge an idea, suggest a different approach or ask for another vocal take, and was particularly pleased with Django’s addition of lap steel to the title track.
The first single, “Dirty Foot Lane”, has a bit of a Glen Campbell feel, a departure from the familiar Slade sound and a beauty of a song, with Django’s slide guitar becoming the rug that ties the room together. Dave described watching his children playing on haystacks as the sun went down, hearing a melody and going home to write it. Having that scene in my head made hearing the song all the better.
After the album playback, Dave came out to sign things and say hello, rounding off an absolutely brilliant night with a living legend who’d given us plenty to laugh about and a new record to look forward to. He was clearly proud of the songs and quick to credit the people who’d helped him, even if his attempt to explain Django’s qualifications involved asking whether he’d won an award “for being nice or something”.
Dirty Foot Lane arrives on November 20, with the title track available to hear now. I’d happily spend another evening listening to Dave explain how it all happened, although I’d advise the man from MOJO to bring an overnight bag.
