11/20/2023 0 Comments Origins never a dull moment sephora![]() ![]() Faces’ drummer Kenney Jones’ heavy hand on the drums also gives the song some needed heft, while Neemoi “Speedy” Aquaye’s congas don’t hurt either. I’ve always been ambivalent about Stewart’s take on Jimi Hendrix’s “Angel,” and if I like it it’s only because Wood’s guitar is big and loud and raw, and helps to allay the song’s sticky sweetness. It’s a beautiful ending to one hard-rocking number, and exemplifies in one song what Stewart and the Faces did best usually in two-namely, mingle knockdown ravers with ballads that’ll break your heart. The song segues into a quiet coda at the end, complete with mandolin by Lindisfarne’s Lindsay Raymond Jackson and piano by McLagan, as well as some sweet violin by Dick Powell. ![]() ![]() This is a Faces song in all but name, and includes some wild keyboard work by McLagan, as well as Wood’s usual mean, mean guitar. A sweet steel guitar comes in, and this one is more country honk than Faces’ usual brand of boogie rock, which follows in the form of “Italian Girls,” the most raucous song on the LP. Stewart’s cover of Bob Dylan’s “Mama You Been on My Mind” is just plain lovely, and Rod the Mod demonstrates (hardly for the first time) his knack as an interpreter of other people’s material. (Right.) At which point some great horns come barreling in, and we’re back in the boogie, and Rod is firing off some of his trademark “Woo’s!” Fantastic tune.īut not quite as good as “Lost Paraguayos,” a perky tune on which Stewart, who is shacked up with an underage girl in some cold and rainy part of the world, decides to “get me some South American sun,” and spends the song patiently explaining to his jailbait lover why she can’t come along (“Down at the border you need to be older/And you sure don’t look like my daughter”) after which he laughs wickedly while telling her he’d never tell her a lie. “I just don’t know what to do,” he sings, just before Wood cranks up both the volume and the tempo and the band goes into boogie mode, complete with the sound of a racecar and McLagan really laying it out on organ. Opener “True Blue, ” on which Faces’ stalwarts Wood, keyboardist Ian McLagan, and bassist/vocalist Ronnie Lane keep things punchy, features Stewart in familiar mode down on his luck, but still high-spirited, and trying to find his way back home. The LP features more covers than originals, never a good sign, but all of the Stewart originals (which he co-wrote either with Wood or classical guitarist Martin Quittenton of blues-rock band Steamhammer (not to be confused with The Steampacket) are stellar. On the other hand, his cover of Sam Cooke’s “Twistin’ the Night Away” rocks and rolls thanks to the cranked-up guitar of Ron Wood (the Faces featured on Rod’s first four “solo” records odd how their ultimate disappearance coincided with his downfall) and the powerful drum thump of Micky Waller, who’d played with Stewart back in the days of The Steampacket. Sure, both 1974’s Smiler and 1975’s Atlantic Crossing have their moments, and even 1976’s A Night on the Town includes the great “The First Cut Is the Deepest.” But Never a Dull Moment is the last Stewart LP to include more good tracks than mediocre ones, and features some undeniable classics in “Lost Paraguayos,” “Mama You Been on My Mind,” and the wonderful “You Wear It Well.” Indeed, Never a Dull Moment lives up to its title, although I have to admit I’ve never been a huge fan of the blues standard “I’d Rather Go Blind,” which Etta James turned into a hit in 1968. Rod Stewart remains my greatest lost hero, who went from a likable rogue with a knack for writing great and frequently self-deprecating songs to the cheesy Lothario of “Hot Legs” and “Tonight’s the Night.” And while pinning down when he jumped the shark from jovial rascal to queasy-making lecher (my pick: the lines from “Tonight’s the Night” that go, “You’d be a fool to stop this time/Spread your wings and let me come inside”) can be difficult, in my humble opinion his final great moment was 1972’s Never a Dull Moment, which was not nearly as great as 1971’s Every Picture Tells a Story, but still highlighted Stewart as an irrepressible rake rather than a sleazy ladies’ man.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |