A fine singer and a multi-instrumentalist, with spells with Lone Star, Uriah Heep, Gary Moore and more, John Sloman should, as the saying goes, have been a contender. But whenever it could have gone right, it went wrong. Today he’s happy being in control with his solo career.

Words: Dave Ling

GEORGE BODNAR ARCHIVE/ICONICPIX

John Sloman divides his career into its Old and New Testament: the former being from the 1970s up to the late 80s, when the Welshman bestrode the world looking, from the outside at least, every bit like a rock god. He appeared on an album apiece by Lone Star and Uriah Heep, before hooking up with Gary Moore.

His lifestyle probably seemed glamorous, but really it wasn’t. Indeed, each of the bands with which he became entwined brought him unhappiness and frustration. And following the lukewarm response to Disappearances Can Be Deceptive –a solo album made at first with Todd Rundgren – he withdrew from the scene to begin what he considers the New Testament of his life.

Sloman rarely speaks about the twists and turns of his time in the limelight, although as he does so today there’s no trace of bitterness, just a tinge of humour and mild regret that things didn’t turn out differently.

Born in Cardiff in 1957, he sang from the age of seven and became a multiinstrumentalist. His early show-business ambitions were shaped by a cousin, David Horne, who played bass for a pre-fame Shakin’ Stevens. Curiously, given his later achievements, Sloman still considers Trapper, his first real band of note, which also featured thenguitarist Pino Palladino (eventually bassist for The Who, Jeff Beck, Don Henley and many more), “potentially the best thing I was ever involved with”. But things went south for Trapper when, during a residency in Germany, the group’s bassist stole and pawned all of their equipment. “I’ve tried to re-form Trapper in various other guises, and it may still happen,” he says, grinning. “Who knows what’s down the road?”

With long blond hair and pin-up looks, and a voice full of power and soul, Sloman was building a reputation fronting a local band called Mountain Child when Lone Star came calling in 1977 after sacking their singer Kenny Driscoll. The opportunity felt heaven-sent.Lone Star had made an exquisite debut with producer Roy Thomas Baker, they had a major-label deal with CBS, and guitarist Paul Chapman was already recognised for his stint with UFO. And a clearly impressed John Peel had said: “If Lone star don’t make it, I’ll saw off my legs and send you all a piece.”