An Unsung Start for a Glam Rock Icon
In the summer of 1968, a song called “Slow Motion” drifted onto the UK music scene, a gentle, almost forgotten debut from a band that was about to take the world by storm. It was the very first single by a group then known as The Sweetshop, soon to be shortened to the familiar The Sweet. At the heart of it all was a young, charismatic singer with a golden voice, Brian Connolly.
This single, a non-charting release, is a poignant footnote in the history of a band that would become synonymous with glitter, platform boots, and some of the most raucous glam rock anthems of the 1970s. For those who remember the sheer energy of “Block Buster!” or the rebellious cry of “The Ballroom Blitz,” it’s almost startling to hear the soft, soulful melody of “Slow Motion.” The song itself is a reflection of a simpler time, a mellow, harmonious tune that hints at the pop sensibilities of the era without a shred of the hard-rock edge that would define their later sound. There’s no bombast, no defiant swagger—just a pleasant, unassuming pop song.
This makes the story of “Slow Motion” all the more fascinating. It wasn’t written by the band themselves, but rather by their producers at the time, Phil Wainman and Sweet bassist Steve Priest. The song failed to make any impression on the charts, a fate shared by the next three singles the band released. It was a time of searching, of finding their footing in a crowded music landscape. The Sweet was still a developing entity, not yet the four-man lineup that would achieve global fame. Guitarist Andy Scott, a crucial piece of the puzzle, had yet to join the band. It wasn’t until the arrival of the Chinnichap songwriting duo and the single “Funny Funny” in 1971 that the band’s fortunes truly began to change, setting them on a path to superstardom.
For fans of Brian Connolly, “Slow Motion” serves as a bittersweet glimpse into the beginning of a magnificent, yet ultimately tragic, journey. The clear, pristine quality of his voice on this track is a stark reminder of what he lost. Years later, a brutal assault would permanently damage his vocal cords, a turning point that would alter his singing style and, some say, contribute to the personal struggles that haunted him. Listening to “Slow Motion” today, you hear the unblemished potential, the pure vocal talent of a young man on the cusp of greatness. It’s a song that captures an innocence that would soon be eclipsed by the excesses of fame and the personal hardships that came with it.
It’s a testament to the band’s resilience and determination that they pressed on after four failed singles. “Slow Motion” is a quiet beginning to a very loud career, a forgotten echo of a time before the lights, the screams, and the blitz. It’s a nostalgic piece for those who lived through the glam rock era, a chance to hear the very first notes played by a band that would forever change the sound of the 1970s. It’s not their most famous song, but in its simplicity and sincerity, it holds a unique and powerful place in their story—the humble, yet promising, first step of a legendary band and its iconic frontman.