Published on Dec 11, 2001
It could be argued that Ted Nugent’s “glory period” lasted three
albums, from his self-titled debut to
Cat Scratch Fever. The concert set
Double Live Gonzo served to sum up this wild period in
Nugent’s career… but after that,
then what? While Nugent still enjoyed a level of success
until around 1980, most of his output past
Cat Scratch Fever has all but been written off.
This is interesting, because a chance selection from the Pierce
Memorial Archives led me to dust off
Weekend Warriors, Nugent’s 1978 effort. Featuring a band in
the midst of change (which would become standard operating
procedure for Nugent), the music contained on this slab o’ vinyl
isn’t a masterpiece, but it’s hardly a failure. In fact, if any
Nugent album would be rightfully called a “diamond in the rough,”
this one might just be it.
Out was long-time vocalist/guitarist Derek St. Holmes, in was
Charlie Huhn – who, probably by no coincidence, sounds similar to
St. Holmes. For his part, Nugent keeps his turns at the microphone
to a minimum – smart move, in all reality, since Nugent’s strong
point has never been his vocals.
Musically, the material on
Weekend Warriors is surprisingly tight. In fact, for the
entire first half of this album, it sometimes feels that Nugent et
al. can do absolutely no wrong – honestly, not an opinion I had
when I first bought this disc some 13 years ago. Why tracks like
“Need You Bad,” “I Got The Feelin'” and “Venom Soup” aren’t ranked
in the upper echelon of Nugent’s repertoire is beyond me – I mean,
these tracks absolutely smoke. And the groove that’s laid down on
“One Woman” is among the bluesiest that Nugent had accomplished to
that point in his solo career. (If there is one tiny stumbling
block, it might be “Tight Spots,” though even it’s a small enough
thing to laugh off.)
The train is almost derailed, though, by “Smokescreen,” a track
which just knocks all the momentum out of
Weekend Warriors. With much less development lyrically and
musically, it hardly bodes well to start the second half of the
disc… and, in a way, Nugent and crew never fully recover.
Follow-up tracks like “Good Friends And A Bottle Of Wine,”
“Cruisin'” and the title track all have a feel as if they’re trying
to cover their tracks. While it might have been better for
“Smokescreen” to have been completely left off this disc, if it
had to be included, I’d have buried it as the last track, if
only to assure that the juggernaut that was the first side of the
disc wasn’t interrupted.
Even with this one goose egg of a song,
Weekend Warriors is a surprisingly good album – honestly,
not something one would expect when the broadcast world drools over
the three prior studio albums. And, frankly, it might be time for a
re-discovery of
Weekend Warriors, if only to show people that Nugent’s
prowess was still quite strong at this stage in his career. More
importantly than the quality of his guitar work (which felt like it
was kicked up a notch or two on this one), Nugent’s songwriting
ability should be spotlighted – some people might be surprised
these came from the same mind as “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang”.
Although this record almost doesn’t recover from one bad song,
Weekend Warriors is a surprisingly mature effort from Nugent
and band that has been left behind for new members of the Cult of
Nugent to discover. It might just be time to raise this disc above
cult status, and give it the attention it should have been getting
for over two decades.