Slaughter & the Dogs were there at the beginning, but lacked the controversial flair of some contemporaries who got more ink or the talent that helped their other peers remain major influences decades later. They had a few classic songs ("Cranked up Really High" was the first single to be released by a punk band), but little else, and a longevity to match. Nostalgia brought key members Wayne Barrett and Mick Rossi, kind of a punkin' poor man's Tyler and Perry, back together in the '90s with a new rhythm section. Though this is the second release of all-new material from the stalwarts after several semi-official live releases, after 1999's Shocking it was the first to have a proper promotional push in the States. The band sounds like they're having fun, and Beware Of is pleasant enough, fondly recalling the days when punk incorporated glam influences proudly. But at the end of the day, it often just magnifies the aforementioned limitations of the group. The fact that the best song on here, "Hell in New York," was written in the glory days and only finally put down in the studio for this disc shows how hard it is to teach old dogs new tricks. ~ Brian O'Neill, All Music Guide
Slaughter & the Dogs were one of the first punk rock bands on the English scene in 1976, even appearing on the earliest scene compilation, Live at the Roxy. Slaughter may not have been as good as Buzzcocks, Clash, Pistols, Damned, Adverts, Generation X, Wire, the transplanted Saints, or others, but like all of the original punk outfits who hit the boards before it became fashionable to do so, they still left behind a sensational, classic, must-have single in their debut "Cranked Up Really High," b/w "The Bitch." A string of lesser, but still quite fun, rocking punk LPs and singles followed. Effective hoarse-shouter singer Wayne Barrett and guitarist Mick Rossi revived the band 20 years later with a new rhythm section, taking advantage of the wave of punk nostalgia to play big shows. This 1996 London one is pretty good, but in comparison to their salad days, it's just not very important. The band doesn't bite anywhere near as hard as in the '70s, lacking original bassist Howard Bates and drummer Mad Muffet (or Muffet's better replacement, Phil Rowland). New drummer Noel Kay lays back too much and fails to push them with the gusto his predecessors did. That aside, however, hearing 1996 versions of "The Bitch," "Cranked," "Boston Babies," "Where Have All the Boot Boys Gone," "I'm Mad," and "You're Ready Now" reminds that their place in punk history is a fond one. Most of all, Barking made me smile all over again over Barrett's still neighborly, mush-mouthed, happy singing style. His continued triumph here (and Rossi's best riffs) reminds of punk's lasting revelation: That even those of modest talent, especially vocalists, could still become great if they had buckets of attitude and enough ability to manufacture their own singular personality and style. ~ Jack Rabid, The Big Takeover, All Music Guide
Slaughter & the Dogs' name may not ring recognition bells among today's listeners, but 1977 punk acolytes will definitely welcome this reissue. Vocalist Wayne Barrett and guitarist Mick Rossi named their band after the two albums they treasured most: David Bowie's Diamond Dogs, and Mick Ronson's Slaughter on 10th Avenue. Both choices summarize this album's light-shade approach. The opening salvo of "Where Have All the Boot Boys Gone?" sounds as hair-raising as ever and rightly remains the band's best-known song, having been credited with inspiring the Oi! punk movement. At heart, though, the Dogs revealed themselves as waggish punk-poppers on "Quick Joey Small" celebration of criminal bravado, and "You're a Bore," whose outro soars into impossibly pure ear candy. The band proves agreeably diverse on the slower, janglier "Since You Went Away," and a remake of the Velvet Underground's "I'm Waiting for the Man," which crackles with an impatience befitting its addiction-by-attrition theme. Still other tracks, such as "Victims of the Vampire," display a goonish sensibility better suited to a Ramones album. So does the bonus track "Johnny T," whose 90 seconds of power-pub boogie salute the late, combustive New York Dolls guitarist Johnny Thunders. For all its promise, however, the band ended up among punk's here-and-gone stories, disbanding by the time of Dog Style's July 1978 release (then reuniting as Slaughter in 1980.) A more consistent songwriting approach might have lengthened the Dogs' run, though their lack of airs ensured a winning team for a time. Any band cited by the disparate likes of New Order, the Stone Roses and Smiths frontman Morrissey surely deserves another look. ~ Ralph Heibutzki, All Music Guide