“Suicide”: A Raw, Unflinching Look at the Depths of Despair and the Fight for Survival.
Oh, what a ride it was, those glorious, gritty days of the 1970s! When the air crackled with rebellion and the music spoke with a raw, undeniable honesty. And at the heart of that electrifying sound, a force of nature emerged, a pint-sized dynamo with a bass guitar slung low: Suzi Quatro. She wasn’t just a musician; she was a pioneer, smashing through the glass ceilings of rock and roll with every growl, every riff, every defiant strut. For those of us who lived through it, Suzi Quatro was a revelation, a breath of fresh, leather-clad air in a male-dominated world.
Among her formidable catalog of tracks, one song stands out for its stark, emotional impact, a cut from her fifth studio album, the aptly titled If You Knew Suzi…, released at the tail end of 1978 with a 1979 copyright. That song, a deeply personal and unflinching exploration of desperation, was “Suicide.” While it didn’t ignite the singles charts in the same explosive way as her earlier, chart-topping anthems like “Can the Can” or “Devil Gate Drive”—those glorious blasts that topped the charts in multiple countries—”Suicide” resonated on a different, more profound level. It was tucked away on an album that itself saw moderate success, peaking at number 37 on the US Billboard 200, which, remarkably, remained Quatro’s highest-charting album in her homeland. The album’s biggest hit, of course, was the incredibly popular duet “Stumblin’ In” with Smokie’s Chris Norman, which reached number 4 in the US, giving Suzi Quatro her sole Top 40 hit in America. But “Suicide” was a hidden gem, a testament to her depth beyond the catchy, high-energy rock.
“Suicide” isn’t a celebratory anthem; it’s a raw, gut-wrenching cry from the soul, co-written by Suzi Quatro and her then-husband and guitarist, Len Tuckey. The song delves into the dark corners of the human mind, grappling with feelings of despair and the overwhelming urge to give up. The lyrics are stark, painting a picture of someone at the very end of their tether, contemplating the ultimate escape. Yet, beneath the somber surface, there’s a flicker of resilience, a struggle to hold on, a desperate fight for survival. It’s a testament to Quatro’s fearless artistry that she would tackle such a heavy, taboo subject in her music, especially at a time when many female artists were still being shoehorned into more conventional roles.
This wasn’t just a song Suzi Quatro plucked from thin air. While she has always resisted being labeled solely by her gender, her music often explored themes of personal freedom and resilience, mirroring her own journey. Her career, while incredibly successful in Europe and Australia, was a constant battle for recognition in her native America. She famously left her family band, The Pleasure Seekers, and moved to England, determined to make it on her own, often crying herself to sleep in those early, lonely days, vowing not to return to Detroit until she had a hit. This unwavering determination, this refusal to compromise who she was, echoes in the fighting spirit that ultimately shines through in “Suicide.” It speaks to the universal struggle of holding on when everything feels like it’s falling apart, a message that resonated deeply with listeners who might have faced similar private battles. It’s a reminder that even the strongest among us face moments of profound weakness, and that acknowledging that vulnerability can be a powerful act in itself. “Suicide” is a powerful, poignant reminder of Suzi Quatro’s artistic courage and her willingness to lay bare the human experience, in all its darkness and its glimmer of hope.