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Bob Halford: vocals
K K Downing: guitar
Glenn Tipton: guitar
Ian Hill: bass
John Hinch: drums
The band we know as Judas Priest grew out of a power-trio called Freight in late 1970, taking their new name from vocalist Al Atkins' previous outfit, named for Bob Dylan's The Ballad Of Frankie Lee And Judas Priest. After Atkins and drummer Alan Moore left in '73 over management issues, bassist Ian Hill's then-girlfriend's brother, Rob (or Bob) Halford, was brought in as vocalist, the band adding second guitarist Glenn Tipton (from the Flying Hat Band) soon after. The recording of their debut album, Rocka Rolla, was apparently fairly fraught, 'producer' Rodger Bain (the man at the helm of Budgie's not so much 'underproduced' as unproduced debut) making several unpopular decisions, although his refusal to allow the band to record several stage favourites accidentally improved their follow-up no end.
Fans of Priest's later, ludicrous leather'n'studs era tend to be fairly scathing about Rocka Rolla, approaching it from the viewpoint of a fan of Point of Entry et al. Wrong. There really isn't any point in tackling it as if it were even by the same band, in many ways, although Tipton and Downing's dual-riffery is already in place on several tracks. The sleeve design got the band into trouble, too, the Coca-Cola Corporation allegedly objecting when they finally realised their logo had been nicked, forcing an artwork change for some later reissues.
One for the Road: A solid, mid-paced opener, One For The Road introduces the guitarists' now-famed interplay, albeit in fairly embryonic form. A memorable chorus and the opening riff are probably its strongest points, along with an unusual 5/4 time signature, but it's a moot point whether or not it really gets the album off to a good start.
Rocka Rolla: The title track was an attempt at a raucous, whisky-swilling anthem, lyrics like, "She's a grip'n'choke'ya, heavy smoker, wrong side of the law", doing the band few favours. It's actually a pretty decent effort, but doesn't even hold up against their next album, never mind the rest of their career.
Winter: The first of three 'linked' tracks, Winter starts as a slightly psychedelic ballad, organ or guitar-through-Leslie growling away at the beginning, before they heavy it up for the rest of the brief track, one of three Al Atkins co-writes here. Notable as the first recorded example of a Tipton/Downing harmony part.
Deep Freeze: Credited to Downing alone, this is no more than a whammy-bar/effect-fest, with much use of heavy stereo panning.
Winter Retreat: A ballad all the way through, this time, this actually sounds like the kind of thing Rush did a year or two later on the other side of the Atlantic. Slight, but eminently listenable.
Cheater: Another macho, 'evil bitch' kind of track, that hasn't dated particularly well, although it fits the album's overall ethos. Notable for (I believe) Halford's sole recorded harmonica performance. Well, they were named for a Bob Dylan track...
Never Satisfied: Possibly the album's most solid performance, side two opener and Atkins co-write Never Satisfied is One For The Road with guts, mid-paced yet intense, with great guitar interplay. Generally speaking, I've realised that side two is probably stronger than side one, oddly. Maybe they should've reversed them?
Run of the Mill: A classic case of the aforementioned misunderstanding, metal fans really not getting where the band were coming from at this time. Run Of The Mill is a slightly proggy, eight-minute piece, featuring a surprisingly mature lyric from such a young band, concerning dissatisfaction at one's life in old age. A quiet verse becomes a heavy chorus, all taken at an ominously slow pace, before a lengthy guitar solo (Downing?) kicks in over Tipton's string synth backing carrying over into the closing section, featuring a classic Halford performance, falsetto to the fore.
Dying to Meet You: Was it Dying To Meet You or Never Satisfied that Halford played in a '90s solo set? I can't remember, but the track's iconic riff helps to make this one of the album's highlights. Another quiet verse gives Halford a chance to shine, although Bain should've made him go over those long, held notes until he could actually hold pitch. Oddly, the track fades out just before the four-minute mark, a Downing whammy-bar splurge introducing a completely different song that, while supposedly the second half of Dying To Meet You, is often referred to as Hero, Hero, apparently, although my research for this article is the first I've heard of it.
Caviar & Meths: Should you ever meet Al Atkins (which a mate of mine actually has), don't mention Caviar & Meths. Entirely his composition, it was apparently originally fourteen minutes long, but allegedly due to 'time constraints' (unlikely; the original album's under forty minutes long), all that survives is two minutes of the intro, fading in then out, a gentle, slightly inconsequential instrumental piece. Atkins recorded a seven-minute version on his Victim of Changes (1998), a good track, but unrecognisable from this snippet.
Bonus tracks: The 1998 CD, aside from cocking-up the track divisions, adds an early version of Joan Baez' Diamonds And Rust, more widely heard in inferior form on 1977's Sin after Sin. This version was actually recorded in '76 for Sad Wings of Destiny and first heard on the band's first compilation, 1978's Gull cash-in The Best of Judas Priest, nestled next to three tracks from Rocka Rolla on side one. The album's also notable for its excellent sleeve artwork and the odd decision to include lyrics to a seemingly random four tracks on the reverse. Later reissues of Rocka Rolla add a video track of that Whistle Test performance, for what it's worth. At least you can have a laugh at Halford's hair.
Does Rocka Rolla stand up today? I'd say so, yes; maybe not a full-blown classic, but with a grand total of zero genuinely duff tracks, it's more than worthy of your time. Of course, it's overshadowed by its jaw-dropping successor, but that's hardly its fault, is it? Incidentally, soon after writing this page, I saw the band on their (supposedly) farewell tour and what should they pull out of the hat but Never Satisfied? It must be its first live airing since the mid-'70s, holding up remarkably well against not only their other early work, but their heavier '80s compositions. See? Told you.
Unsurprisingly, the album didn't do very well, although the band were slowly building up a following. Appearances at 1975's Reading Festival and on the BBC's Old Grey Whistle Test music show upped their public profile enormously, as did their next album, 1976's classic Sad Wings of Destiny, still mined for material for their live sets to this day. Gull were unable to support the band financially, not to mention their ongoing inability to hold onto a drummer for more than a few months, but they finally signed with CBS in '77. They recorded Sin after Sin with session ace Simon Phillips guesting behind the kit, finally finding a 'keeper' (albeit only temporarily, so probably not really a 'keeper' at all) in Les Binks. After a final 'good' album, 1978's Stained Class, the band saw which way the wind was blowing, changed their image, began writing shorter, simpler material and the rest is history.
That's the same history that's clearly proven me wrong in preferring (an understatement) the band's first four albums to, er, everything else they ever did. A mate and I first saw them in our teens on the Killing Machine tour in late '78 and were somewhat bemused by their new, all-leather image, not to mention Rob's new trick of swinging a whip out over the heads of the audience. Naïve? Us? I can see that the band had to change to avoid irrelevance in the new, dumbed-down '80s, but I can still mourn the original band, especially as I missed seeing them by a mere few months. Can't I? While maybe not actually a full-blown classic, Rocka Rolla is not only a portrait of a band in their infancy, but a perfectly good album in its own right. Make the effort to hear it.