Andy Richardson: When the boys don’t want to play together anymore

That, my friends, is what 53 years of friendship gets you. And now might be an apposite time to reflect that Noddy Holder – who, let’s face, was Slade – sacked it all off in 1992 amid, erm, feuding within the band. Clever Nod. As long ago as 2015 he said it saddened him that Slade couldn’t sit together around a dinner table. And with the latest spat – which will be the last, for now there’s nobody left to argue with – there’s little prospect of that. What was left of Slade has become a bit of a turkey.

The boys on social media have wasted no time to respond with a collective shrug of the shoulders and sigh. Does anybody still care? seems to be the gist of it.

So the one who didn’t write the songs and didn’t sing them either is now effectively Slade. Dave Hill can take credit for the platform boots and the maverick sense of style, however. The self-styled Super Yob single-handedly did more for Britain’s Glitter Industry than the man who invented the stuff. Dave also continues to hold the World Record for The Worst Rock Star Haircut of all time.

Meanwhile, the drummer who didn’t write the songs and didn’t sing their either, nor come up with the maverick sense of style, is now effectively Rival Slade. Though Don Powell was the best looking, remains arguably the most decent bloke from the original line-up and continues to keep his feet on the ground. As they say round these parts, Don’s a good ‘un.

If it all sounds a bit, erm, playground, that’s because it is. Dave will either draw a veil or at some point say Don could no longer keep the pace because he’d been ill. Don will either draw a veil or report that his illness had been overcome and he was once more raring to go.

Jim and Noddy, meanwhile, the guys who actually wrote the tunes, sang the tunes and were the heartbeat of the band, will smile ruefully and think: “Well, I told you so.” Their inner monologue might also reflect: “How did it come to this?” or, more likely, “Thank God I got out while the going was good.”

Slade aren’t the first band to fall out like Peter Andre and Katie Price. Though it’s fair to say that not even Channel Five is bidding to make a mockumentary entitled Don And Dave, Friends Unrequited.

Thankfully, the children of Dave, Don, Noddy and Jim are moving quickly to plug the gap. They hope to form a band of their own, called Sleigh, in an effort to capture the lucrative Christmas market. Dave Hill’s kid will take the lead in creating a contemporary new look for the band, encouraging other members to dress as reindeer and wear shiny red noses. And between October and December each year, they will, because the guest band at Merry Hill Shopping Centre, in Brierley Hill, where they will play festive classics on a loop, earning more than the minimum wage and enjoying complimentary Lindt chocolates from a local sweet shop, while wearing festive jumpers and deely boppers.

Dave Hill’s Slade, meanwhile, will play to ever-decreasing audiences – their fans, literally, are dying off – while Don Powell’s Slade will play to even smaller audiences, as curiosity gets the better of a small but loyal hardcore.

Mind you, it just might work. Lest we forget, UB40 fell out in spectacular fashion when Ali Campbell knocked his band on the head so that he could form his own version of it and get a bigger slice of the Victoria Sponge. It worked, too. Ali no longer had to put up with the snoring of his band mates on the tour bus as he finally got his own super-luxe suite at Hotel Swank. Both versions of UB40 – the one with and the one without Ali – continued to prosper, working on some sort of we’re-not-co-operating-but-our-gigs-never-clash rota.

Wilderness beckons for Dave and Don’s bands, however. Tumbleweed is already starting to blow. But Dave and Don have plans. Both are working on solo projects that are unlikely to flirt with the UK chart, but will give them the chance to vent their frustration and pretend to be rock Gods one last time. And, having sold 50 million records, none could begrudge them that. They both were, once.

As the world – okay, as 27 Black Country fans – recoils from the news, all that’s left is for Dave and Don to re-write a classic Slade tune in homage to the other: Coz I Don’t Love You.