So here is that famous Gladiators album that, for a while, was thought to be possibly their last. Not so: although Albert Griffiths is retiring from the famous group, it is his own son, Al, who takes over the lead vocal. Make way for the new generation of Gladiators.
It is Albert Griffiths's farewell gift. After his recent tour of France where he presented his son Al to us as the Gladiators' successor (see the report HERE), here is the last album on which we can hear him. The album's title, "Father And Sons", is no accident: the passing on of the lead is plain. Especially when you know that Anthony Griffiths, another son, is on drums, and that yet another sometimes plays keyboards on tour. The Gladiators, a family affair! This "Father & Sons" gives pride of place to Al Griffiths's singing. But if you expected to find the same vocal intonations as his father's, quite a different impression emerges on Promise Me, the album's first track, where his voice unmistakably evokes that of Wiss Bulgin of Israel Vibration. The confusion is short-lived. From Can’t Get Around Me on, one is struck by the similarity between father's and son's voices. Al's voice, clearer, more direct but also less assured (Attack), supports Albert Griffiths's, at times tired.
Less raw, more diffuse
The illustrious names are no longer limited to the members of the group: Bongo Herman, Dean Fraser, Tony Greene and Nambo Robinson join to complete an already famous list. For the Gladiators now have a horn section. Arranged by Dean Fraser himself, it breathes new breadth into the group's compositions. But their sound, less raw, less round, is now more diffuse. The glaring uniformity of this album sometimes produces a feeling of repetitiveness. The tracks Captivity, Bull Buck, Mercifull, and Holding On, though among the most successful on the album, all come from the same vein. An impression reinforced by the alternation of versions on the album (4 in all), instead of presenting them as "bonus tracks".
The end of the album remains disappointing. Attack, and Jumping, both with their versions, are not the Gladiators' most straightforward compositions. The sugary ballad Farewell, fitting for the occasion, where Albert Griffiths addresses his last words to his audience, will surprise more than one listener. One still hesitates between the end of the career of a mythical group in France, and the start of a rebirth. This new-generation Gladiators is still young, but already has some flavour. Time will do the rest.
