John joined Whitesnake in December 1983. He had caught the eye of David Coverdale while Thin Lizzy were touring alongside Whitesnake in Germany earlier that year. Apparently auditions did not go that well, although Coverdale nevertheless trusted his instincts (a talent of his the singer is very fond of praising) which were telling him that hiring Sykes was going to be a positive step for his band.

It seems that at this time backstage arguments between Coverdale and Sykes were commonplace, probably due to the fact that Sykes was stealing some, if not most, of the singer’s limelight during their shows. For each performance of Crying in the Rain Sykes was given a solo spot during which Coverdale left the stage. The bootleg recordings of the Rock in Rio gigs betray Coverdale’s irritation (in the form of on-stage comments) at having to share the spotlight in this way. Regardless of whatever personal differences the two men may have had, there is no disputing the fact that musically they were a dream ticket.

Coverdale and Sykes wrote these nine songs together in a small village in the south of France, in what Coverdale has described as a week-long period. Various studios were used on both sides of the Atlantic. Sykes and Murray demo’d new songs in Blackpool, England, before the bulk of the recording was done in Vancouver, Los Angeles and London. Of these songs, one (‘You’re Gonna Break My Heart Again’) was left off the original album release in the US (although it appears on the UK CD version and the 1994 Greatest Hits CD), and the eight new compositions were accompanied on the record by new versions of ‘Crying in the Rain’ (featuring the excellent guitar solo that Sykes had been playing at Whitesnake gigs in ‘84 and ’85) and ‘Here I Go Again’, the one track on which Sykes does not play lead guitar. I would really love to see a classic albums-type documentary made on this record, but given the ill-feeling between the main protagonists (although Sykes and Coverdale have since had some cordial exchanges), I doubt it will happen. The famous A&R man John Kalodner, who oversaw the release of 1987 describes Sykes and Coverdale as a dream team, and like many fans, Kalodner still harbours a wish to see the two men record and play together once more. Whether or not that would be feasible (personal differences aside), given DC's now sadly deteriorating vocal abilities, is a moot point. Coverdale’s and Sykes’s voices gel so well on the 1987 songs – at times it is almost as if they are duetting. Why was it decided to record in this fashion, and considering the doctoring of some of Sykes’s other contributions to the record (eg. the guitar solos are often obscured in the mix, part concealing them with keyboards and so on – just think what that middle section and guitar breakdown in ‘Still of the Night’ would sound like with quieter keyboards, although it still sounds fantastic as it is), why was this aspect retained? There has been an unofficial remastered version of the album, and to an extent this improved on the original sound. Hopefully one day we will be allowed an honest remastered version of ‘1987’, one that does full credit to the guitars. Many critics of the album will say that ‘Still of the Night’ is too derivative of Led Zeppelin. True, it is reminiscent of ‘Black Dog’, but did Led Zeppelin ever record such an electrifyingly exciting song? – I don’t think so. I’m sorry, but for me, and I suspect others who were first discovering hard rock in the mid to late 1980s, Whitesnake’s ‘1987’ was, is, and will always be a top 5 all-time album. The guitar sound which Sykes hit on for this album (assisted by future Metallica and Mötley Crüe producer Bob Rock) is not replicated by anyone anywhere else.

Others dismiss songs like ‘Bad Boys’, ‘Straight for the Heart’ and ‘Children of the Night’ as 80s hair-metal, when the guitar riffs and solos are in fact innovative and memorable. As for the ballads, ‘Is this Love’ and ‘Don’t turn away’: the former was a big hit and is known to millions of music fans whether they recognise who is singing or playing on it or not. You might read on the internet that Coverdale wrote it with the idea that Tina Turner record it – it hurts to imagine her massacring the song! ‘Don’t turn away’ allows Coverdale to let loose the warm and appealing lower register of his singing voice. As for the other musicians on this album, well, Neil Murray has said that his bass parts do not cut through the mix that well. This is not always the case. Without being able to compliment him in a technical sense, I think the bass-playing is highly distinctive and very listenable and it just wouldn’t be the same album without it. Furthermore, Murray provided a crucial link to the 'old' British-style Whitesnake. As I said, I think the keyboards are too loud, but that’s really a minor quibble. The one bone of contention which really bothers me is the ‘new’ version of the Whitesnake classic ‘Here I go again’. This features a guitar solo by Adrian Vandenberg who went on to become Coverdale’s sidekick (some might say yes man?) in the band for years to come. I’m sorry to say I don’t like it, since it sounds clumsy and somehow bolted on. While John plays all the guitars on this track except this solo, I usually skip this one and am grateful that Vandenberg didn't get to wreck any more of the songs on this brilliant album.

And now a picture of the best line-up Whitesnake ever had...

Before David Coverdale went all megalomaniac and threw John out of Whitesnake in order to bask in the success of the multi-platinum "1987" album alone, and rake in the loot for himself (apart from the scraps he threw to his stooges Vandenberg, Campbell et al.), before all that, John Sykes was THE MAN for Whitesnake. It was John who, no two ways about it, was the catalyst for the band transforming itself into a global phenomenon, a tight, dynamic, professional outfit with outstanding musical ability and showmanship (as opposed to the bunch of drab blues plodders who lay claim to the supposedly "classic" Whitesnake sound today in the UK). John sexed up the band's songs and came up with some electrifying solos that truly reinvigorated a band that was very tired-sounding before he joined. There will only ever be one guitarist for Whitesnake in my eyes, and that is John Sykes. Everyone afterwards has failed to repeat his impact, failed to replicate the excitement he brought to Whitesnake, failed to live up to his attitude, failed to play his songs the way they were intended to be played, failed to look the part, in fact they have just generally failed in every way imaginable. (Just my opinion, of course!) The following 2 interviews with Whitesnake reveal how highly DC rated John before his ego got in the way (DC's that is, not John's!!). Occasionally John even gets a word in edgeways. I've put them here to remind the world that DC did actually say these things.

"Guess who got voted sex object of the festival, then?" David Coverdale sits on his plastic poolside pew, fair bursting with admirably controlled glee. For a moment, it's tempting to give him a bit of a runaround — er, Ozzy Osbourne? Angus Young? Ronald McDonald? Oh, what the hell, even if Sounds' readers dumped him into an inglorious position under (ouch!) the doughy Divine, Rock In Rio's attendants have restored self-esteem. Right now, Coverdale is riding a high and there ain't nobody gonna pull him down ... But there's more behind this newfound glow than mere votes on the strength of an inside leg measurement. Whitesnake have struck lucky in the land of golden opportunity. Whitesnake have finally, after God knows how long, cracked America. And at the exact same time as the band who many would consider to be the Snakes' deadliest rivals, Deep Purple, are putting their US shot. It all makes for rock soap of the frothiest, most intriguing kind: old dynastic enemies locked in grim battle for the ultimate prize. Or does it? It's my personal opinion that when Ritchie Blackmore finally decided to relaunch the old Purple warhorse, he did Whitesnake a bigger favour than any that could've been achieved by press frenzy, countless front covers and mammoth publicity campaigns. Not only are record companies leaping into the fray by collecting together their many and varied DP compilations, thus further lining Coverdale's already well-stocked pocket, but the re-emergence of the classic Purple sound (unchanged, or so it seems, since they bade us farewell in the 70s) appears to have brought about a welcome update in Whitesnake's music. In brief: the Snakes have cast aside technical bombast in favour of bite, they have pared down their line-up and sharpened their tunes, they have gotten rid of that admittedly atmospheric yet damnably ageing Hammond organ sound and are flaunting the powerful emotion of a finely tuned guitar. Naturally, David Coverdale doesn't brandish this point of view. He remains tacitly amused by the Purple furore — unlike one unnamed source who likened their press pic to 'the Moody Blues fan club' — and positively supportive of ex-Snake Jon Lord's departure. But John Sykes, ex-Tyger and Sun 'page 7 fella', latest and (since Mel Galley's now permanent departure), sole guitarist with the band, would seem to share my view. Of their new sound he says: "No way is there going to be a keyboard solo! I think the changes are certainly for the better. That old Hammond sound dated the stuff by about 15 years and, anyway. Purple are doing that now . .. it's not the sort of thing I'm into at all." David Coverdale doesn't like doing interviews with the press, especially the UK press, especially Sounds who, he reckons, "ultimately damaged Whitesnake's business in England" during 1984. But he controls any feelings of venom, only mentions Bushell's name once and concentrates on his favourite subject of the moment: Sykes. "John is the freshest guitarist around. We actually arranged for Thin Lizzy to play on some German festival bills with us so we could clock Sykes — his joining the band had been on the cards for over a year before we actually sat and talked about it. He's got all bases covered, both presentation and attitude. It's a delight to work with someone who turns up at a photo session with a selection of clothes instead of what he's just driven to town in, or standing there looking like a sleazebag. Image, music — he's concerned with the whole thing." Even more glowing? "I'm anticipating total involvement from Sykes, that he's really gonna give a full injection, and with that we'll be working 50/50. That'll be the first time really that I ever had a 50/50 collaboration with anybody as far as writing goes, no matter what former members of Whitesnake say." THE SATISFACTION, you'll be glad to hear, is definitely mutual, although it doesn't explain how the Snakes suddenly became a four-piece. "We were thrown in at the f***in' deep end because of a dreadful accident that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Mel's work with me on the 'Slide It In' album was great, f***ing marvellous — although, afterwards, I think I would question little bits and pieces. Anyway, this happened when we were due to play Scandinavia, and we'd already had to postpone it once because I had laryngitis, and the promoters were going to go bust, so we agreed to finish the tour as a five-piece." (At the time, Jon was still in the band.) "They were the most exciting shows I'd ever done. Everyone really pulled together and it was the first time, I realised, Whitesnake has ever really felt like a group. All the other times, there were these silly camps developing, like schoolboys behind the bikeshed who've just discovered titties." Of Lord's departure, Coverdale says: "You can only learn — like now Whitesnake's the Four Musketeers and I believe it will remain that way. Whatever we do in the future with keyboards — little bits of colour here and there — it's just gonna be a power trio with vocals." Whitesnake slid onto the Rock In Rio bill as a late replacement for the album-preoccupied Def Leppard — amazingly, it was a straight choice between Blanca Serpenta(l) and Frankie Goes To Hollywood — but ended up stamping their personality firmly in South America's heavy rock book. Audience reaction was a wholehearted welcome: the press, one review smartly dubbing their music as "songs about sex, sex and a little bit more sex" more than complimentary.

Coverdale has always claimed that he wasn't that bothered about breaking America, that he wasn't going to flog the band around the heartlands until he was certain that the time was right. Aha, said the critics, that's 'cos America doesn't want him. Now, she most patently does. "In the States, it was like being treated as a new band — absolute bliss," says David, all the more triumphant since Whitesnake's US take-off followed a severe journalistic pasting in Britain. "Suddenly it all came together, and Quiet Riot treated us royally. We went on to play, 45 minutes, no special treatment, lights or anything, and did a ton of record sales, t-shirts, everything! It was a situation where Whitesnake came together beautifully. If it had happened before, it wouldn't have been right — I wouldn't have had Cozy or John in the band." Both appear on the American remix of 'Slide It In' on the orders of Geffen, a decision that had Coverdale storming into the record company with "a nine page resignation letter" before deciding that yes, the changes were for the better when heard on American radio. That was the only Snake LP to feature the present line-up (less Lord — confusing, no?) and the band's most prosperous to date.

"'Slide It In had the best reviews for any Whitesnake album across the entire globe, except the UK! The tongue-in-cheek thing was embraced with open arms in America, it was taken seriously, the sexual innuendo and all that sort of thing, which is basically the blues, anyway. It was taken, it was understood and I went 'Fucking hell! So I was right!'. Now that a year's gone by, it's become our most successful album, equivalent in terms of success to the Deep Purple album." The latest one or an older model? "The ones when they were really successful...but the new one, I hear, is doing very well!" Inevitably, it's impossible to talk to Coverdale without touching on, nay, treading heavily on the subject of the Purple reformation. He can't avoid them, either, having already been offered festival slots in California on the same bill. It's getting tiresome, though. I've been asked all these questions in the States about my Deep Purple involvement ... it's embarrassing when you're working with people you find fresh. I promise you, I wouldn't have joined them anyway: number one, I'm not hard-up, and number two, I'm having a f***ing ball with Whitesnake. "I think there must be a lot of people saying 'Oh, he must be real pissed off.' But I've been offered the gig four years running and turned it down. I don't want to sing songs that I wrote 12 or 13 years ago!" As you read this feature, the Snakes will be settling down to write some new songs for an album which Coverdale promises will "have to be a little bit special". He senses that the rough ideas already brewing between himself and Sykes will turn out to be "classics", relishing the opportunity of offloading some of the writing credits onto different shoulders. "For too long I've been working with people who're trying to get their own solo deals going and want to save the best songs for that, and then they go mad when they discover I've written all the songs for the album. Somebody's got to do it." And so it's a time of changes for Whitesnake, though some things never alter... What do you reckon you'll call the next album, David? "Whip It Out, Wipe It And Slide It Back In Again'!" You think that's a joke!

Excerpts from this interview in which DC talks through the "Slide It In" album and discusses the songs.

"But what of the changes in the band? You'll probably all be aware of the re-shuffles, so let the man himself tell us more. [...] Neil Murray's back - and many happy returns to him. I saw him with Gary Moore and thought 'Bloody hell, why did I let him go?' I'm glad to have him back and I feel that he's pleased to be back because I think he was being treated a bit like a session musician in Gary's band. Before, I didn't realise that Neil was made to feel insecure by being upstaged by certain members of the band, and that certainly won't happen again. He's princely as a musician and a diamond as a person.

Also in the ranks now is whirlwind guitarist John Sykes, who for me was the main reason why Thin Lizzy finished on such a high note. His dazzling displays, ignited by his youthful energy, should give the Snakes a sharp jab up the jacksie.

But I remember flipping through the last Whitesnake tour programme and reading Coverdale's dislike of the current guitar hero syndrome. So why has he chosen Sykes, who is the most guitar hero-like of all the 'Snake six-stringers? [...] It isn't always productive working with a flashy guitarist, because most of them are just prima donnas and only want to show off all the time. Now Sykesy I've heard playing in a variety of different styles and that's why I thought he'd be perfect for the Snakes. He can play melodically, as well as loud 'n' flash. It's going to be a kick up the arse for us to have this kid coming in and bubbling all over the place. I think we can learn something from him and I know he can learn an awful lot from us.'

He could give you a run for your money onstage...'Exactly! What's the point of me just getting another guitarist who is going to be a backing musician? I loathe complacency. It's going to be great with Sykesy. [...] It's very exciting for me because I haven't written for a guitar hero for a long time.'

It's difficult to read DC's words without feeling sad about a lot of things that happened after John joined Whitesnake. I find it hard to accept that their songwriting partnership only yielded 9 songs (I think!). They had so much more to give... Whitesnake and DC never equalled or bettered 1987, although John's output since Whitesnake has been consistently high. Oh well, let's just be thankful for what music they have given us.

WHITESNAKE'S NEW guitarist John Sykes fancies swinging through the trees to star in the next Tarzan film. He's also more than willing to dress up and kill a few villains as Conan the Barbarian. "If any film producers out there want a hunk then I'm the man for the job," he says. "I don't mind what I do but I'd like an action role the best. I've also been offered a modelling job and, although they said they wouldn't pay me, it would be good to get my face in magazines. "Thank God for Boy George and Marilyn, they've made long hair fashionable again. Not so long ago people called me an old hippie and looked at me as if I had two heads when I went to a club."

Girls, did your eyes keep on straying to handsome John during Whitesnake's performance of 'Give Me More Time' on Top Of The Pops'? He's in his early twenties and worked as a hod carrier when he came home from Ibiza, where he learnt to play guitar. "My parents and my uncle owned some clubs out there. My uncle had been in a lot of bands and he was an early influence on me. At that time I just wanted to master the guitar, I didn't want to be a superstar. You see when I was on Ibiza I couldn't speak Spanish and I couldn't understand their television programmes, so in my spare time I used to settle down with a guitar." John later joined up with Blackpool band Streetfighter before he was spotted by Thin Lizzy and then Whitesnake. In-between bands he released a solo single which came to nothing.

"Whitesnake had wanted me for quite some time, but I was happy with Lizzy," he says. "Anyway eventually I got together with them in the studio and just worked. Whitesnake's great now because it's a combination of the old and the new. We have the experience of David Coverdale, John Lord and Cozy Powell with the freshness of Neil Murray and me." Now John can look forward to about five months of solid touring following Whitesnake's British dates in February. "We're going to have plenty of explosions on stage but I'm not going to give too much away and spoil the surprise. I have mixed feelings about touring. Everybody thinks it's very glamorous all the time but it's not like that at all. "In the beginning it's fun because it's like a school holiday with your mates, but the novelty wears off. Sometimes you sit in your hotel room late at night feeling really down and lonely. "It's the price you have to pay for the fun and glory of being on stage. But I'm not really complaining, being in a band certainly beats shifting bricks for a living."