Bon Jovi – Slippery When Wet Review

In a roundabout way, there is little difference between Taylor Swift and Bon Jovi. Both are working off the basis of very plain, safe-sounding music with nuggets of their private life thrown in. These brief moments, flirtations with what the artist projects as truth, are taken up well by only dedicated fans. Crucial to this trade-off is either a danceable desire, a recognisable tone, or just a flash of what may look like magic to win people over. Slippery When Wet walked so The Life of a Showgirl could be adapted into the public subconscious with little criticism. It’s anti-art in the latter, plain annoying and nothing more for the former, whose Livin’ on a Prayer is the audio equivalent of waterboarding. It’s a grift, but it’s nothing new. Likeable pop tones with little lasting matter, the chart-topping pieces which promise everything and offer nothing. Bon Jovi did just that on Slippery When Wet, though this is decades on from release. These songs are now nostalgia fodder for those who have convinced themselves the past is better than the present.  

But hold on a moment. That’s surely just off the back of Livin’ on a Prayer. What can nine more songs from Jonathan Bongiovi Jovi offer? Not much, but it’s a bit better than the sole, surviving hit which appears on the inevitable karaoke pub playlist. Wild in the Streets suggests the band will live by a code of honour brought up on the tough streets of New Jersey. It should be no surprise Slippery When Wet feels a bit like a discounted version of Bruce Springsteen. The Boss and Jovi collaborated on Forever, and there their styles felt somewhat complementary. When you realise Slippery When Wet is just a play up of those heartfelt offerings Springsteen mastered, it becomes a lot less likeable. Light on quality still, but likeable all the same. Likeable if you have recently received cranial damage, that is. Slippery When Wet is for the knuckle-draggers, the bottom feeders who want to kick back and rock on with a Blue Pabst Ribbon in one hand, their middle finger raised to progress.  

You can hear it on redundant tracks that feature nothing but teenage melodrama. Instrumentals which value not the quality of the pitch or tempo but the volume and sheer amount of notes you can cram into a solo. Pathetic, foot-tapping trajectories are at hand here. An unnamed darling may give love a bad name on Bon Jovi’s You Give Love a Bad Name but it is the band itself which drags pop, rock, and metal down. It becomes abundantly clear why nobody listens to Slippery When Wet beyond the singles. Bon Jovi is of the Guns ‘n Roses variety. Musicians who know which way up a guitar is, but are never capable of creating, just following. Hang-ups about life that should be filed away in the brain before being introduced to the wider world. Bon Jovi has created a series of songs which prey on the past, but by planting himself there, he becomes an indicator of it being fine to hold onto these moments. It’s not.  

What the past offers is what Bon Jovi offers, a faux comfort to shelter from interesting experiences in modern times. Slippery When Wet is an essential listen. You may find yourself revolted or reassured. If you’re in the latter camp, it’s already over for you. Those who are in the former, who feel physically ill after a round of Livin’ on a Prayer or turned queasy by the experiences of Without Love and I’d Die for You, welcome to the real world. Love may be a social disease, but Bon Jovi’s music is a communal death sentence for those with any interest in music beyond it playing up to what they already know. Incompetent and creepy offerings across the album succeed because Slippery When Wet adopts several genre tropes but never fills them with satisfying or meaningful moments. A slow-tempo guitar line of minor interest on Never Say Goodbye is weighed down by some of the worst writing you will hear in radio-friendly rock and roll. Slippery When Wet is an awful album held up by nostalgia from losers who never grew up.