Bon Jovi, "Slippery When Wet"

Ken never says goodbye to the '80s

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Jan 26, 2022

Ken’s Pitch:

I have a list of over 100 albums I would really like to pitch at EONS. Unfortunately, my two associates have tastes that don’t have much overlap. Trying to get an album into Newbury St. by pleasing both of them is a near impossible feat. The Venn Diagram of their musical preferences looks like John Lennon’s glasses. So how do you get a kid from New Jersey and a metal head aligned? You load them up with some goddam Bon Jovi, that’s how!

Heavy metal is dark, intense, and there seems to be violence and mayhem always lurking in the neighborhood, while 1980’s pop was a bit too bubble-gummy and immature. But the songwriting duo of Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora put the best aspects of the two together and came up with pure fun. It’s a beautiful marriage of two popular genres, neither of which I really get into on their own. But together, they form the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup of rock music. One taste and you immediately want more.

The Chocolate

Everyone who isn’t allergic or deranged loves chocolate. In the ‘80s music business, chocolate meant a charismatic front man with an easily recognizable voice and an outlandish stage persona. It was tight pants, long hair, and on-stage antics that would get any stadium crowd fired up. Jon was more tame than Diamond David Lee Roth and Dee Snider, but he was also more talented than both of them and could afford to tone it down just a bit knowing he had the musical chops to carry the show.

The Peanut Butter

The guts of the whole thing that differentiates a Reese’s from almost any other candy. We all know that (with very rare exception) if you wanted to be a hit in the ‘80s, you needed a big time guitarist. Sambora isn’t as straight-forward as a Pete Townsend or a Tony Iommi, or as intricate as Eddie Van Halen or Jimmy Page, but he has a keen self-awareness that allows him to hold the band together while quietly riffing in the background or stepping up to take a lead.

The Crinkles Around That Form The Outside Border

Those ridges actually add quite a bit of texture to every bite. They give it another layer even when they go unnoticed. Tico Torres might not be Neal Peart or Ginger Baker; shit, he might not even be Stewart Copeland, but he adds more than just timekeeping. If you listen closely, there are intricacies emphasizing upbeats, and resting in places one wouldn’t think calls for a rest that result in a more complex sound.

The Packaging

It’s an iconic orange and brown wrapper that is universally known and revered. And while it’s somewhat innocuous, you know exactly how much fun is inside. Now tell me you don’t look at the cover of Slippery When Wet and think about singing along to “You Give Love A Bad Name”, “Livin’ On A Prayer”, “Never Say Goodbye”, and “Wanted Dead Or Alive”. It’s good times waiting to be unwrapped.

Gentlemen, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups are #1 on the list of most popular candy bars. The least we can do is to set aside some space on the shelves of Newbury St. for its musical counterpart, Slippery When Wet.

CJ’s Response:

Steven Tyler said that he didn’t think Bon Jovi was serious until he heard “Wanted Dead or Alive”. Whereas I said “You can’t be serious!” when Aerosmith foisted “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” on us a dozen years later. Shitty movie soundtracks notwithstanding, Old Lady Tyler was right. “Wanted” elevated Bon Jovi above the other hair metal bands that dominated the ‘80s rock and pop scene. In truth, the entirety of Slippery When Wet separated Jon and the boys from the rest of the Aquanet set by a mile. So much so that two dyed-in-the-wool metal heads, my brother Dan and I, went to see the Slippery Tour when it rolled into Worcester, MA in the winter of 1986.

I had only been street legal for five or six months and my mom didn’t like the idea of Dan sitting in the passenger seat while I was driving. Her fear was that we would start fighting and I would lose control of the car causing a multiple-car pileup. So the night before the concert, my dad came into my room with a message from my mom.

“You have to call us when you get to Worcester,” he told me.

Remember, this was before mobile phones. Which meant Dan and I had to find a pay phone somewhere in the Centrum and bring along the $1.50 in coins it would take to complete the call.

“Fine,” I said. “We’ll call.”

Dan and I made it to the show without incident. “Wanted Dead or Alive” was definitely the highlight of the concert. Jon and Richie donned the cowboy hats, grabbed their acoustic guitars and sat on simple, wooden stools at the front of the stage. The crowd was way into it, waving lighters and singing along.

We left the Centrum that night feeling that, on the whole, we had seen a pretty good show. Though as we approached our house, something began to nag at me about the evening. It was like we had missed something. My father met us at the door.

“You forgot to call,” he said simply.

There was a moment when I considered getting back into the car and just driving away. I had no idea where I would go, but anywhere would have been preferable to the kitchen where my mother was waiting for us. My dad must have seen me glance at the car because he pointed at the house and issued a single command.

“Go!”

My mother sat at the green, circular table where our family took most of its meals. Her eyes were red and puffy and her skin was sallow.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!” she opened.

“But…” I said.

“Every time the phone rang, I thought it would be you because you promised to call us. YOU PROMISED! Then, every time the phone rang I thought it was the police calling to tell me that YOU WERE DEAD!”

“Mom…”

“Then I thought that maybe you had been beaten up at the concert and were in a hospital somewhere.”

“Mom, who’s going to beat us up at a Bon Jovi concert? A gang of 14-year-old girls? Stop being so dramatic.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw my dad shake his head slowly. Even Dan took a step away from me.

“You’re docked!” she screamed. (“Docked” was her word for grounded. Usually, when she told me I was docked I replied, “But, Mom, we don’t even own a boat.” I did not try that little joke this time.)

“What?!?” I replied incredulously.

“No car for a month,” she decreed. “You can take the bus to school. Maybe then you’ll remember to call.”

The Monday after Christmas vacation Dan and I walked the half-mile to the bus stop in a steady freezing rain. I was cold, miserable and mortified at having to ride the bus with freshmen and sophomores. As we waited at the bus stop with five or six other kids from the neighborhood, this girl began talking excitedly about what she had done over the holidays.

“I saw Bon Jovi at the Worcester Centrum. How cool is that?” she babbled.

Dan and I spoke in unison.

“Bon Jovi sucks,” we said.

Pitch Successful (I should’ve called.)

Mitch’s Response:

I’m not a proud man. How could I be?

In 1984 I had a candy-themed Bar Mitzvah.

That’s right: I marked my budding manhood not with fast cars or fast women, but with a celebration of chocolate that would embarrass Augustus Gloop himself.

So when Ken attempts to hijack the majesty of the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup to sell us on the supposed virtues of Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet I’m not just unconvinced, I’m offended. Reese’s is The Rolling Stones of candy, The Beatles of candy, The Byrds of candy, not the fourth best rocker from New Jersey of candy.

But maybe he’s on to something with the candy comparisons. He just needs to fine tune his argument...

Bit O’ Honey: Sure, Bon Jovi gets stuck in your teeth with their catchy riffs, but after a few minutes you’re more concerned about your fillings than wanting another bite. Is that a chunk of almond or just one of David Bryan’s annoying synthesizers?

Bazooka Gum: Just like Bazooka Joe’s truly terrible comics, Bon Jovi’s lyrics ride the fine line between stupid and mildly offensive. He writes like Springsteen after a wreck on the highway. I wish I lost this CD in the backseat of my car, baby.

Charleston Chew: As ugly on the outside as it is flavorless on the inside, the cover for “Slippery When Wet” is about as appealing and classy as a “Calvin peeing” sticker.

Necco Wafers: Dry and unpleasant, you couldn’t possibly finish a whole sleeve of wafers - just like Ken couldn't mention any of the 6 filler songs outside of the Big 4 hits on Slippery When Wet, out of fear of the intro to “Social Disease” being mentioned.

Skittles: Too sweet and all the “flavors” taste the same, but perfect for sharing nonetheless, because you know when “Living on a Prayer” comes up at karaoke you’ll be screaming along with everyone else.

All of which is to say - I’m a candy loving kid from New Jersey who bought the first Bon Jovi cassette as soon as “Runaway” became a regional hit. They’re no Bruce, or Little Steven, or Southside Johnny, but Slippery When Wet is a surprisingly tight, fun, and listenable album, and that’s good enough for me and Newbury St.

Pitch Successful (Bring Back Richie!)

Ken’s pitch was successful and Bon Jovi’s Slippery When Wet has been added to the Newbury St. Collection. Sayreville 4EVA!

Runaway to the comments section and let us know if you’re keepin’ the faith with Bon Jovi, or if Slippery when Wet gives love a bad name.

Exile on Newbury St.

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