The Seeds of Whitesnake

Before the hair, the MTV videos, the American breakthrough, the power ballads and the stadium-sized version of Whitesnake, there was this: David Coverdale’s first solo album, WhiteSnake.

Released in 1977 after the collapse of Deep Purple, this is an album that often gets overlooked when people discuss Coverdale’s career. It is not quite Deep Purple. It is not yet Whitesnake the band. It is not the blues-rock juggernaut that would follow on Trouble, Lovehunter, Ready an’ Willing and Come an’ Get It. It sits in a more uncertain, intimate and transitional place.

And that is exactly why I find it so fascinating.

For me, White Snake is not just an album; it is a moment in time. It captures David Coverdale standing at the crossroads after Deep Purple had ground to a halt in 1976. Around him, the extended Purple family was already moving forward. Tommy Bolin had Private Eyes, Jon Lord had Sarabande, Rainbow had Rising, Ian Gillan had Child in Time, Glenn Hughes would soon have Play Me Out, and the whole Deep Purple recycling machine was already beginning to turn again.

Coverdale must have felt, at least to some degree, that he was being left behind.

But when I heard that he was making a solo album, he was the one I was most interested in. There was something about his voice on those final Deep Purple albums — that rich, warm, bluesy tone — that made me want to know where he would go next. He had the look, the voice, the presence and the lyrics. In those last photographs of Deep Purple, with the jets, the limos and the sense of rock-star grandeur, Coverdale looked like someone who belonged in that world. The question was: what would he sound like outside of it?

A Solo Album, Not a Deep Purple Album

One of the interesting things about solo albums in the 1970s is that you did not necessarily expect the artist to carry on doing exactly what they had done in their previous band. A solo album was often a chance to step sideways, try something different, or reveal another side of the musician.

That is very much the case with White Snake.

Anyone coming to this expecting another Burn, Stormbringer or Come Taste the Band would have been surprised. There are moments where the Purple connection can be felt, but this is not really a hard rock album in the Deep Purple sense. It is bluesy, soulful, sometimes funky, occasionally loose, and in places almost bar-room in feel. There are brass and backing vocals. There are songs that lean towards R&B and soul rather than heavy rock. It sounds like a singer looking for his next identity.

And yet, that identity is beginning to form.

The title itself would, of course, become hugely significant. At the time, White Snake was simply the title of David Coverdale’s solo debut. Who would have known then that it would become the name of one of the biggest British rock bands of the late 1970s and 1980s?

The Purple Family Connection

Although this is a solo album, the Deep Purple connection is still there. It was released on Purple Records, and Roger Glover was involved as producer and musician. That mattered to those of us who were Deep Purple trainspotters at the time. It made the album feel as if it still belonged, in some way, to the wider Purple family.

The musicians involved are also worth noting. Alongside Coverdale on vocals, piano and percussion, the album features Micky Moody on guitar, Tim Hinkley on organ, Ron Aspery on saxophone and flute, DeLisle Harper on bass, Roger Glover on bass, melodica, synthesiser and percussion, Simon Phillips on drums, and backing vocals from Liza Strike, Helen Chappelle and Barry St. John.

That is a very strong cast of players. Simon Phillips, in particular, was everywhere in the 1970s and would go on to have one of the great session and rock drumming careers. Micky Moody is also vital here. His connection with Coverdale would become central to the early Whitesnake sound, and on this album you can already hear that blues-based partnership beginning to take shape.

The production is not perfect. In places it can sound a little muddy, and I do think that has affected the album’s reputation over the years. There is a great album in here, but it sometimes feels as if it has not always been presented in the best possible light. That is one reason why I have always hoped this album would eventually receive the kind of careful deluxe treatment it deserves.

The Sleeve, the Feel and the First Impression

I remember buying this album from Virgin Records in Birmingham. The sleeve made an impression straight away. It had a textured feel to it, a bit like Fireball, and that physical connection mattered. This was an album you held, studied and lived with.

Inside, there were photographs from Coverdale’s Deep Purple period, and he looked every inch the rock star. There was still a sense of grandeur around him, even if the music inside was more reflective and less bombastic than some might have expected.

That contrast is part of the album’s appeal. The sleeve suggests continuity with Deep Purple, but the record itself reveals something more vulnerable. It is the sound of a singer who has been through the end of one huge chapter and is trying to work out what the next one should be.

Track by Track: Finding the Future in the Blues

“Lady” opens the album with the kind of subject matter Coverdale would return to many times: desire, women, longing, and the bluesy world of late-night encounters. It is not the fully formed Whitesnake sound yet, but the vocal personality is there.

“Goldies Place” brings in a funkier feel, showing that Coverdale was not trying to simply remake Deep Purple. The groove, the brass flavour and the backing vocals all point towards a more soul-influenced direction.

“Whitesnake” is the out-and-out rocker on the album and, with hindsight, feels historically important because of the name. It has more bite, more swagger, and a clearer link to where Coverdale would soon go. It is not the polished hard rock of later Whitesnake, but it has some of the attitude.

“Time on My Side” is probably the most Purple-like track on the album. There is a stronger hard rock flavour here, and it is one of the moments where you can imagine the bridge between Coverdale’s past and future. It has often been suggested that some of this material may have had roots in ideas for what might have been the next Deep Purple album, or at least from the period around the end of that band. Whether that is strictly true in full or only partly true, the track certainly carries some of that atmosphere.

“Peace Lovin’ Man” and “Sunny Days” are also interesting because of their links to the late Purple period. Coverdale had been working on some of this material around that time, and these songs feel like fragments from that post-Come Taste the Band world, reshaped into something more personal.

“Hole in the Sky” was the single, and it is a beautiful ballad. It showed another side of Coverdale’s voice — not the roaring rock frontman, but the soul singer, the storyteller, the man who could pull emotion out of a line without over-singing it. In 1977, finding that single in the UK was not easy, and today it often seems easier to find promo copies than standard pressings. It is a lovely song, but for me it is not the emotional centre of the album.

That honour belongs to “Blindman”.

Blindman: One of David Coverdale’s Greatest Performances

I have always felt that “Blindman” is one of the best things David Coverdale has ever recorded.

It was later re-recorded by Whitesnake for Ready an’ Willing, and that version is very good. It is bigger, more polished, more in line with the band Whitesnake had become by 1980. But for me, it does not come close to the version on this first solo album.

The 1977 version has something that cannot be manufactured. It has vulnerability. It has space. It has that feeling of a man singing from somewhere real, somewhere bruised, somewhere uncertain.

When my wife first heard it, she said it reminded her of Free’s “Be My Friend”, and I can understand that comparison. I had never really heard it that way before because Free and Coverdale occupied different places in my mind, but there is a shared emotional world there: loneliness, longing, soulfulness, and that very British blues-rock melancholy.

The lyrics have that 1970s rock poetry quality — spiritual, searching, romantic and slightly mythical. Coverdale sings like someone trying to find a way through the dark. When the song begins to build towards the end and the guitar riff enters with more force, he pushes the vocal harder and harder. You believe him.

That is the key. You believe him.

There is a moment in Coverdale’s voice where technique gives way to feeling. You can hear the grain, the power, the ache. It reminds me of some of his phrasing at the end of “Stormbringer” on Made in Europe, where he stretches the vocal line with that incredible mixture of control and emotion.

For me, “Blindman” is the reason this album matters. Everything else may be transitional, exploratory or uneven, but “Blindman” is fully realised. It is not just a good David Coverdale song. It is a great one.

Why Whitesnake and Northwinds Matter

I have always felt that White Snake and NorthWinds are among David Coverdale’s most important musical statements. They do not have the commercial weight of the later Whitesnake albums, and they are not as iconic as the Deep Purple records, but they reveal something essential about him.

They show the soul singer behind the rock frontman.

On these albums, Coverdale is closer to Frankie Miller, Joe Cocker, Paul Rodgers and the British blues/soul tradition than he is to the later Americanised hard rock image. That is not a criticism of later Whitesnake — far from it — but it does mean these solo records deserve to be heard on their own terms.

NorthWinds is often seen as the stronger album, and I understand why. It is more focused and more mature. But I have a huge soft spot for White Snake, and that affection radiates out from “Blindman”. It is an album I return to not because it is perfect, but because it captures a particular emotional state.

It is David Coverdale in between worlds.

The CD Versions and Reissues

For a long time, the most accessible CD version was the Connoisseur Records edition, which came with a modest booklet, a few clippings from the music papers, and two bonus tracks: alternate takes of “Peace Lovin’ Man” and “Sunny Days”. Simon Robinson was involved with that reissue, and for many collectors it became the best practical way to own the album on CD.

It was never the most lavish presentation, but at least it kept the album available. The booklet was not overflowing with detail, but it did include useful period material and helped frame the record as part of Coverdale’s early solo story.

More recently, the album has been revisited as part of Into The Light: The Solo Albums, which brought together WhiteSnake, NorthWinds and Into the Light with remixes, remasters and additional material. That is important because these albums deserve to be reassessed, especially by people who only know Coverdale through the later Whitesnake era.

There is a real story here: the young singer from Deep Purple, stepping out on his own, unsure of exactly where he was heading, but already carrying the voice, the charisma and the blues-based instinct that would shape the next chapter.

Final Thoughts: A Transitional Album with One Masterpiece at Its Heart

David Coverdale’s Whitesnake is not a perfect album. The production can feel a little cloudy, the direction is not always clear, and it does not have the confidence of the early Whitesnake band albums that would soon follow.

But I do not think it should be dismissed.

It is a fascinating record because it captures David Coverdale before the mythology had fully formed. Before the snake became a band. Before the blues-rock pub circuit years. Before the UK chart success. Before America. Before the videos. Before the reinvention.

This is Coverdale after Deep Purple, trying to find his own path.

There are moments of funk, soul, blues, hard rock and balladry. There are traces of the Purple family, but also signs of escape from it. There is Micky Moody, already becoming an important creative partner. There is Roger Glover helping guide the project. There is Simon Phillips adding class behind the kit. And at the centre of it all is that voice.

For collectors, this album is essential because it explains part of the journey. For Whitesnake fans, it shows where the name began. For Deep Purple fans, it is a fascinating postscript to the Mk III and Mk IV years. And for anyone interested in David Coverdale as a singer, “Blindman” alone makes it worth owning.

I still believe that the 1977 version of “Blindman” is one of Coverdale’s finest vocal performances. It has the ache, the loneliness, the power and the honesty that define great blues-based rock singing.

White Snake may be a transitional album, but sometimes those are the albums that tell us the most. This is not the sound of a finished product. It is the sound of an artist searching.

And in that search, David Coverdale found the name, the mood and the emotional foundation for everything that came next.

Original Vinyl Album released on Purple Records 1977

Side one
Lady (Coverdale, Micky Moody) – 3:48
Blindman – 6:01
Goldies Place – 5:03
Whitesnake (Coverdale, Moody) – 4:22

Side two
Time on My Side (Coverdale, Moody) – 4:26
Peace Lovin’ Man – 4:53
Sunny Days – 3:31
Hole in the Sky – 3:23
Celebration (Coverdale, Moody) – 4:11

Bonus tracks on the 2000 CD reissue
Peace Lovin’ Man (Take 1) – 5:04
Sunny Days (Take 1) – 3:21

In the video, I talk at length about the song Blindman. Although the version he re-recorded for the Ready and Willing album is very good, I feel it lacks the raw passion that the version this album has. I feel this is especially true on how he delivers the words and really lets go over the ad-libs towards the end of the song.

Blindman

I was dreaming of the past,
Why do good times never last
Help me Jesus, show the way
I can’t hold on another day

I was hungry, feeling low,
I just couldn’t make out which way to go
Chasing rainbows that have no end,
The road is long without a friend

Be my friend, be my brother,
Be the piper, play the call
Across the seven seas of wonder
Be the guardian of my soul

Just a young man looking homeward,
Watching the sun go down again
Across the water, the sun is shining,
But, will it ever, will it ever be the same

Be my friend, be my brother,
Be the piper, play the call
Across the seven seas of wonder
Be the guardian of my soul

I need somebody, I need someone,
I need somebody to call my own
Like a blind man, I can feel the heat of the sun,
But, like a blind man
I don’t know, I don’t know,
I don’t know where it’s coming from

Be my friend, be my brother,
Be the piper, play the call
Across the seven seas of wonder
Be the guardian of my soul

I need somebody, I need someone,
I need somebody to call my own
Like a blind man, I can feel the heat of the sun,
But, like a blind man
I don’t know, I don’t know,
I don’t know where is coming from

Album Personnel 

David Coverdale – lead vocals, piano, percussion
Micky Moody – guitars, percussion, backing vocals
Tim Hinkley – organ, percussion, vocals
Ron Aspery – saxophone (baritone, tenor, alto, and soprano), flute
DeLisle Harper – bass, percussion, vocals
Roger Glover – bass, melodica, ARP 2600 synthesizer, percussion, vocals, production
Simon Phillips – drums, percussion
Liza Strike, Helen Chappelle, Barry St. John – backing vocals

I really hope this gets a proper deluxe album reissue soon!

Phil Aston | Now Spinning Magazine