Even allowing for the unusual, nay unique, circumstances surrounding the Faces by the summer of 1971 they were on strange ground.
Two and a bit years into a career that began as amalgamation of three former members of the Small Faces and two strays from the Jeff Beck Group, they had gained repute for the boozy bonhomie of their live performances, yet neither of the albums so far recorded had attracted much in the way of critical acclaim or commercial success.
In concert a ramshackle mix of rock and soul always sounded rumbustious no matter what, to which copious amounts of alcohol was a factor, but on record they came across as muddled – the quintet of Rod Stewart (vocals), Ron Wood (guitar), Ronnie Lane (bass), Kenney Jones (drums) and Ian McLagan (keyboards), capable of charming their way to the heart of any audience but lacking the focus required to make a coherent LP.
On forming in the spring of 1969, ex-Small Faces Lane, Jones and McLagan had initially recruited Wood to fill the void left by guitar player and vocalist extraordinaire Steve Marriott on his exit to form hard rock combo Humble Pie. As a guitarist Wood met their needs (he had actually played bass with Beck), the departure of Marriott most felt in terms of the pithy lyrics he was capable of writing (as a songwriter all his truly great moments occurred with the Small Faces) and a remarkable voice blessed with the power few could match.
From their earliest rehearsals it became apparent they needed a singer, fate conspiring to make Stewart receptive to their overtures, as like close friend Wood he was a recent former member of the Beck group.
While fortunate to recruit such a formidable, not to say distinctive vocalist, in the interim Stewart had taken a solo album deal with Mercury, the reconstituted Faces, on dropping the ‘Small’, signing for Warner Bros.
For a couple of years the situation of Stewart recording his own albums while a member of the band had little to no effect on their unity (all members present on the records he had so far made) or standing.
Indeed, ‘An Old Raincoat Won’t Ever Let You Down‘ (1969) and ‘Gasoline Alley‘ (1970), were both greeted by a slew of favourable reviews as Stewart announced himself a dab hand at merging rock, country and soul, all delivered in a throaty, yet resonant vocal style. But for all their qualities and undoubted charm, record buyers remained slow on the uptake.
But everything, literally, was to change on the event of his third album, ‘Every Picture Tells A Story‘ (May 1971) catapulting him to global stardom. For the most part an exceptional collection, one of the many highpoints was ‘Maggie May‘ that when issued as a single became a worldwide hit – and while the other Faces happily hammed it up alongside him on shows such as ‘Top of the Pops’ it was only Rod’s name on the record.
Such widespread – and richly deserved it has to be said – success had positive and negative connotations for his fellow Faces. It elevated Stewart to a level of fame that went way beyond the group to the extent at some performances they were incorrectly billed as Rod Stewart and the Faces (to his embarrassment and annoyance of the others, Stewart suddenly a member apart). But the attention, however misinformed, elevated the band to a far higher profile.
To cement this increase in status, the Faces, pure and simple, needed an agreeable album in order to establish their credentials as a bona fide outfit in their own right, opposed to being mistaken as sidemen for Rod. Their next offering was likely to be a chart success on the strength of his participation, but with ‘A NOD IS AS GOOD AS A WINK ……TO A BLIND HORSE‘ (November 1971), they pretty much succeeded on all counts.
In fact it is hard to imagine how the Faces could have made a more effective album at this juncture. The emerging songwriting axis of Stewart and Wood contribute four frenetic rockers to emphasise the boisterous side of the band, Lane provides contrast with a quartet of more reflective pieces (one written in conjunction with Stewart and Wood, assisted on another by McLagan), the picture completed by an engaging run through of Chuck Berry standard ‘Memphis‘ which is taken at less haste than might be imagined.
At once they sound a cohesive, purposeful rock band and with no extra decoration in the form of horn or string sections – the addition of steel drums on ‘That’s All You Need‘ apart – they carry out an in-house job of vocals and performances.
For the first time, on vinyl at least, they are recorded as a fully-fledged musical co-operative, the marked improvement in clarity and purpose not just down to an overall rise in the standard of composition but as much to the input of control panel master Glyn Johns. Fresh from the sessions for ‘Who’s Next‘ he brings much needed restraint to proceedings – the Faces may still be the ultimate party band, but here there is acceptance of when everyone has had enough and its time to go home.
The change of emphasis is evident when taking the album as a whole, (with a running time of thirty six minutes, it is almost a quarter of an hour shorter than 1970 debut ‘First Step‘ and follow up ‘Long Player‘) and in the structure of individual tracks – Johns not allowing songs meander as they have done in the past, the idea behind a song needing to be present from the outset, rather than tracks drifting along in search of one.
Opener ‘Miss Judy’s Farm‘ is indicative of what Johns wants, this tightly wound Stewart/Wood composition straightaway different from any previous up-tempo Faces cut, the group sounding sharp and dynamic as they sprint rather than saunter their way to the end.
Built upon raunchy electric guitar work, the narrator is a put upon figure working on a farm in ‘old Alabam’, his travails being the manual labour and sexual duties he must carry out for the owner whose identity is contained in the title. Not altogether dissimilar to something Mick and Keith might have concocted for their recent ‘Sticky Fingers‘ masterpiece, the Stones would have likely brought a steel guitar into play, but the Faces keep it strictly raucous which rams home the sense of rebellion contained in the final verse:
‘Last summer we was restless/Were gonna make a stand and burn down your farm/But it was all in the head ’cause out in the yard/Miss Judy had the National Guard/We was beat before we started.’
Lane, in conjunction with McLagan, makes his songwriting entrance with ‘You’re So Rude‘, an amusing mid tempo offering that evokes an episode, told from the boyfriend perspective, of two young lovers being caught in the throes of passion on the living room couch – only to be interrupted by the unexpected return of his parents:
‘What’s that noise? Why’d they come back so soon?/Straighten your dress, you’re really looking a mess
I’ll wet my socks, pretend we just got caught in the rain.’
With Rod nowhere to be heard except for a breezy harmonica break, taking the track closer to Lindisfarne than Led Zeppelin, it suggests how the Faces would have evolved as a vehicle for the songwriting of Lane – namely a melodic folk-rock outfit with his cheery, if limited vocals out front.
But what in fact they are is superbly demonstrated on ‘Love Lives Here‘, Lane, Stewart and Wood combining on a brilliant evocation of a childhood home being bulldozed to the ground – memories contained within the bricks and mortar reduced to dust:
‘It’s hard to believe that this is the place/Where we were so happy all our lives/Now so empty inside and feelin’ no pain/Waitin’ for a hammer and a big ball and chain/They can tear it all down and build something new/Then only I’ll remember what was here/Tomorrow comes easy, just another day gone/How long will I have to keep returning?’
The song is lasting testament to just how great the Faces could be when they were on song. Stewart delivers a suitably masterful vocal while behind him the others are exemplary through this exquisite rock ballad, McLagan particularly outstanding in his dual keyboard work of piano and organ.
While the second verse can also be taken as comment on a failing relationship, the theme of seeing the past, in terms of a home disappear, persists. The same subject matter was covered by Ray Davies on The Kinks brilliant ‘Muswell Hillbillies‘ album that appeared the same month – East End boy Lane and N10 native Davies both writing with great resonance on how the London of their youth was disappearing.
Attributed solely to Lane, ‘Last Orders Please‘ is an eager-to-please country rock track that shuffles along in similar manner to ‘Watching the River Flow‘ a recent, one-off Dylan single.
Meeting a former lover in a pub (where else would one of the Faces meet an old flame?), the scene is set by mention of the song playing in the background, ‘They’re playing “Tracks of My Tears”‘ and fleshed out with barroom-styled piano lines.
The reunion does not end well from his point of view, ‘But you said you still want me/You opened up an old wound/Then you left me here bleeding/And my mind’s black and blue,’ the song nicely recorded and pleasant enough without ever being remarkable. But after hitting one songwriting high with his share of ‘Love Lives Here‘, Lane reaches another with the serene ‘Debris‘ that opens side two.
Reflecting with great poignancy on his relationship with dad Stanley, unusually for a rock song (an acoustic ballad in this case), based on father/son relationships, the song is written from a standpoint of affection rather than antipathy. Lane sings his heart out through this affecting tribute to an ordinary working man who has rolled with the punches and gentle pleasures of life.
Joined in glorious fashion by Stewart at the chorus, rock star Lane makes his clear admiration for someone he depicts as a kindly soul:
‘Oh, you was my hero/How you are my good friend?/I’ve been there and back/And I know how far it is.’
In contrast ‘Stay with Me‘ is brash and bawdy, Stewart offering episodes from a one-night stand that Wood sets to a scything guitar riff and from the opening couplet of, ‘In the mornin’ don’t say you love me/’Cause I’ll only kick you out of the door,’ there is little in the way of ambiguity.
While the woman is left in no doubt of how brief this encounter will be, ‘So, in the mornin’, please don’t say you love me/’Cause you know I’ll only kick you out the door/Yeah, I’ll pay your cab fare home, you can even use my best cologne/Just don’t be here in the mornin’ when I wake up, come on,’ the singalong chorus ensured it would result in their first hit single.
Reaching high positions in the U.S. and UK charts, many also found the turbo-charged conclusion endearing – not least Stewart who rewrote the song (‘The Balltrap’ ‘Hot Legs‘, ‘Dirty Weekend‘), on several occasions through the decade.
After a bouncy rather than hurled interpretation of ‘Memphis‘ that Rod sings in a strangely plaintive voice, the album closes with a couple of exuberant Stewart/Wood cuts – ‘Too Bad‘ describing how they are looked down upon by other guests at a party they are keen to enliven, with ‘That’s All You Need‘, the tale of a prodigal brother who returns home after failing to take the world by storm.
On the former they gain admission to the gathering only to find the decision quickly rescinded, (‘So we mingled for a minute or two/With the high-class clientele/Then somebody said/”Who invited them?/
That crowd of refugees. Get out!”), their simple intent summed up in the chorus:
‘All we wanted to do was to socialize/Oh, you know its a shame how we always get the blame.’
While not at the same level of lyrical panache as the ‘Every Picture Tells a Story‘ title track the pair wrote together, or for that matter the three songs they would write for Stewart’s next album, Rod still manages a decent line or two on the latter, describing the moment his brother returns as ‘Came a knock on the door, thought it was the third world war.’
In truth, the song does not go very far, the sibling revived by the restorative sound of Wood playing his electric guitar at a hundred miles an hour, but it does not really matter – through the buoyancy of the music and comradery between the players, we have all been energized, the Faces having long since won the day.
In the wake of Stewart conquering the world, it was not a surprise the album met with significant chart success, reaching number six in the United States and two in the UK, but the LP was a deserved hit on its own merits – spirited, charming, unpretentious rock music played by an affable, charismatic band. At a time when rock had begun to take itself very seriously, they brought back a sense of fun, the Faces always more likely to engage with a cocktail cabinet than concept album.
Yet it proved, in every sense their high water mark. The following year Stewart reinforced his lofty position on the rock totem pole with the delightful ‘Never A Dull Moment‘, the group not recording again until early 1973 and when ‘Ooh La La‘ appeared, Stewart claimed not to like it. His comments only added to the escalating tension surrounding the Rod/Faces conundrum – the situation taking its toll on Lane who left just six weeks after their fourth, indeed final, studio album was released.
With former Free bassist Tetsu Yamauchi brought in as replacement they soldiered on for another couple of years, few missing the irony attached to the uplifting 1974 single ‘You Can Make Me Dance, Sing Or Anything‘ in being credited to Rod Stewart and the Faces.
As 1975 drew to a close Rod finally quit to concentrate on the solo career he had been maintaining all along, nobody in the least surprised either when Wood replaced Mick Taylor in the Rolling Stones, becoming a permanent member after ‘guesting’ on their 1975 North American tour.
Ultimately the Faces disintegrated due to nobody having the necessary will required to hold them together, their gradual demise in motion from the moment Lane made his exit. But back in 1971 with ‘A Nod Is as Good as a Wink‘ they were unified, joyous, inventive and funny – and let’s face it, as they said themselves, that’s all you need.
FACES – A NOD IS AS GOOD AS A WINK…..TO A BLIND HORSE (Released November 17 1971)
Miss Judy’s Farm/You’re So Rude/Love Lives Here/Last Orders Please/Stay with Me/Debris/Memphis/Too Bad/That’s All You Need;
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NEIL SAMBROOK is the author of ‘MONTY’S DOUBLE‘ – an acclaimed thriller now available in paperback and as an Amazon Kindle book.