After Rod Stewart wowed the critics and sent record buyers to the shops in their droves, as he had done in 1971 with the masterful ‘Every Picture Tells A Story‘ album, his Highness of Highgate was faced with the issue of how to continue the acclaim that had suddenly flooded over him.
While every sale of the album and each superlative review were richly deserved – Rod becoming very rich in the process – the widespread attention was something new, if not the critical compliments. His first two solo albums ‘An Old Raincoat Won’t Ever Let You Down‘ (1969) and ‘Gasoline Alley‘ (1970) were both rapturously received by the music press, but barely registered with the record buying public (or as the man himself put it, ‘we couldn’t give ’em away‘).
After cutting his musical teeth in the mid-60s English R&B scene, Stewart, born in North London to Scottish parents on 10 January 1945, spent two years as vocalist with blues/rock forerunners the Jeff Beck Group.
But on tiring of the self-absorbed ways of its guitar-virtuoso leader quit in July 1969 to follow Beck-band carousing campadre Ron Wood to the Faces – a rumbustious, ramshackle outfit formed from the remnants of 60s power-pop maestros the Small Faces.
With Wood (guitar) and Stewart (vocals) in tow, Kenny Jones (drums), Ian McLagan (keyboards) and Ronnie Lane (bass) – former Small Faces singer/guitarist Steve Marriott having left to form heavy rock ensemble Humble Pie – realigned as the Faces, who by 1971 had recorded three albums of variable quality, but each a steady improvement on the last.
Indeed, what renown they had was built primarily on the boozy bonhomie of their live shows. Performing to fellow inebriates, the Faces saw rock as a means to fall about fun rather than the introspective intentions of a host singer-songwriters or backs to the audience noodling of those popularising prog-rock. Not that there was a lack of serious intent in the albums Stewart had so far made as a solo artist – his reputation as a first-rate wordsmith, song interpreter without equal and singer of the highest order already well established.
Yet perhaps his biggest achievement through the three albums bearing his name was the adorable warmth he had managed to infuse them with, Rod producing a blend of folk, rock, soul and blues that was triumphantly charming while at the same time sounding as pleasurable to make as it was for the listener to hear. So, back to the original question, just how could he follow ‘Every Picture Tells A Story‘ a record that had been such a resounding success on every conceivable level?
Unlike fellow Londoners Pete Townshend and Ray Davies, Stewart had no inclination to wrap his work in a conceptual bow, so a ‘themed’ LP was not happening (having said that perhaps his entire output has been one continuous ‘concept’ album of wine and women songs). In the event Rod stuck to doing what he did as well as anyone and came up with four great originals, four delightful covers and shaped them into an entity entitled ‘NEVER A DULL MOMENT‘ (July 1972).
It is tempting to state ‘Never a Dull Moment‘ could be the most consistently excellent album of his entire career. Between the magnificent title-track and majestic Dylan reading on side one of its predecessor (the second side is outstanding from start to finish), there are a couple of instances where ‘Every Picture Tells A Story‘ treads water, but twelve months on the quality rarely wavers, Rod the writer, cover-merchant and singer in top-notch form throughout.
From his previous albums Stewart once more gathers the gang of players – Wood (guitar/pedal steel/bass), McLagan (keyboards), Micky Waller (drums), Pete Sears (piano), Dick Powell (violin) and Martin Quittenton (acoustic guitar) – who bless his music with abundant spirit, although during his tenure with the Faces, (which would last until they split three years later), ‘Never a Dull Moment‘ is the album of his that most sounds like a Faces record, not least because the five of them perform opening cut ‘True Blue.’
One of three contributions on side one from the Stewart/Wood songwriting axis, whose efforts by now were making up the bulk of Faces material, the opener is a joyous piece full of pithy observations from Rod, who puts his tongue firmly in his cheek with the opening line (‘Never been a millionaire, but I tell you mama, I don’t care‘) and leaves it there for the entire song.
Behind him the Faces rock with a focus and discipline they were rarely found on record, even less so in concert – having said that, with them it was always more about vibe than virtuosity. Rod’s endearing, self-deprecating demeanor (‘You see, back home I’m considered the fool, but maybe they’re right, I don’t know‘) is somewhat at odds with his glum visage on the album cover, an illustration which depicts him sitting in newly-acquired nouveau riche surroundings.
After admitting he doesn’t know what to do, the course of action is ‘Gotta get home as soon as I can,’ the song coming to a rip-roaring conclusion in every sense, Rod heard revving the engine of his Lamborghini and spinning its wheels before speeding off homeward – which at this stage was still closer to Holloway than Hollywood.
On ‘Lost Paraguayos‘ and ‘Italian Girls‘ Rod and Ron write with equal aplomb, both of which may not sit comfortably in relation to lyrical sensibilities of the 21st Century, but in their defence neither could be said to truly offend, especially as each are full of witty, engaging lines. On the former Rod regales us with a tale of how he is trying to escape the attentions of a smitten young female in an exotic location, wanting little more than sunshine, to stay out of a Mexican jail, while explaining to his admirer why he must move on alone:
‘Honey, don’t even ask me if you can come along/Down at the border, you need to be older/And you sure don’t look like my daughter.’
Built on a framework of ringing acoustic guitars and fattened up with some atmospheric Tijuana-style brass, ‘Lost Paraguayos‘ might not have sounded out of place on a Rolling Stones album of the period had there been darker, more confrontational overtones. There is also plenty of good-natured exuberance to be found in ‘Italian Girls,’ Rod by now having decamped to Italy in order to attend the Turin Motor Show where he encounters a woman named Bella – who claimed she ‘owned a floodlit villa/A little aways from the main highway.’
The loose arrangement gives Wood on electric guitar, Sears (piano) and drummer Waller plenty of scope in which to operate and although there is a sense toward the end this mid-tempo rocker is becoming unglued, Rod keeps the narration loaded with humour at his own expense (‘I must have looked a creep, in my army surplus jeep‘). But in describing the object of his affections with the couplet, ‘She was tall, thin and tarty/And she drove a Maserati‘ he makes it hard to resist a song containing a line so brazenly funny.
Armed with the most resonant lyric of his recent batch, Rod, as he had done the previous year on the brilliant worldwide hit ‘Maggie May‘ went to Quintteton for music, both once again in splendid form as they conjure the sublime ‘You Wear It Well.’
In working again with this co-writer, Stewart changes the perspective from a schoolboy lamenting his relationship with an older woman to that of protagonist in a love affair, regretful of how he has made a mess of things (‘Now I’m eatin’ my heart out tryin’ to get back to you’).
Taking the form of a letter from him to his estranged lover, the couple are also separated by distance, ‘I had nothing to do on this hot afternoon, but to settle down and write you a line/I’ve been meaning to phone you but from Minnesota/Hell it’s been a very long time.’ Rod bares his soul in a way that is heartfelt and humorous, hopeful a mix of love and laughter might win her back:
‘I’m gonna write about the birthday gown that I bought in town/When you sat down and cried on the stairs/
You knew it did not cost the earth, but for what it’s worth/You made me feel a millionaire.’
Kicking himself for his part in their estrangement, (‘Cos I aint forgettin’ that you were once mine and I blew it without even tryin‘), the shuffling folk-rock melody, built on a platform of organ and meshing guitars, is reinforced with a violin solo from Powell, Stewart painting a superbly vivid picture in explaining why he must shortly stop writing:
‘Now my coffee’s cold and I’m getting told that I’ve gotta get back to work/So when the sun goes low and you’re home all alone, think of me and try not to laugh.’
For someone who once compared the thought of writing lyrics to that of trapping his fingers in a draw, Rod doesn’t half make it sound easy – and at a time when others were trying hard to be so self-consciously mystical and profound, Stewart picks up his pen and writes rings around most of the competition simply by using simple words to their best effect. But you have to hand it to him, throwing in ‘After all this, hope it’s the same address‘ as the music edges toward a conclusion is one smart way to finish what already stands as an impeccable rock song.
Of the songs chosen to interpret, he comes up with a skillfully soulful reading of the 1967 Etta James hit ‘I’d Rather Go Blind‘ producing an expressive vocal that is offset by an understated horn arrangement. Becoming a mainstay of the Faces live repertoire, it is the only number to which they do justice on their otherwise slipshod ‘Overtures & Beginners‘ live album of 1974.
Also going on to become a Faces concert favorite, (and second hit single from the album), was side two opener ‘Angel.’ Written by Jimi Hendrix, but not officially released until featuring on the posthumous ‘Cry of Love‘ set released in 1971 a year after his death, the song was ideal for Rod’s remit – lovely nuanced vocal, roll along melody, tidy guitar work from Woody and chorus that could be sung to the rafters in auditoriums everywhere.
As he had done with ‘Maggie May‘ Stewart proceeded ‘You Wear It Well‘ with a brief acoustic guitar passage (this one entitled ‘Interludings‘), the other tradition being continued, this one going back to ‘Gasoline Alley,’ is that of including a Bob Dylan cover.
But whereas ‘Only A Hobo‘ (‘Gasoline Alley‘) and ‘Tomorrow is a Long Time‘ (Every Picture Tells A Story‘) stay close to their folk origins, on ‘Mama, You Been on My Mind,’ Stewart incorporates electric piano, upright bass and harmonics from a pedal steel guitar in taking the song toward territory normally the domain of The Band – although it is hard to imagine even them improving on such a magnificent singing performance and imaginative use of instrumentation.
Fittingly, the album closes with a rousing version of ‘Twistin’ the Night Away.’ Paying homage to his idol Sam Cooke, who wrote the song and made it a hit two years before his death in 1964, Wood and Waller do Rod proud with their contributions – in the solo drum break near the end it sounds like Waller is hammering on upturned empty paint cans – Stewart having the time of his life in being the genial party host.
On release ‘Never a Dull Moment‘ shot straight to the top of album charts across the globe and as ‘You Wear It Well‘ gave him another number one single, everyone agreed it was a worthy successor to ‘Maggie May.’
Once again the reviews were rapturous, for the third album in a row esteemed New York critic Robert Christgau awarded Rod an ‘A’ in his renowned A-D rating system (A- in this case). Even so, only the Stones and The Who were earning such high marks from the same reviewer with equal consistency.
Yet perhaps the most telling recognition for the album was found nearer to home. On what proved their final tour in the autumn of 1975 – the Faces splitting before the year was out with Lane having long since left – on any given night ‘True Blue,’ ‘Angel,’ ‘You Wear It Well‘, ‘I’d Rather Go Blind‘ and ‘Twistin’ the Night Away‘ were in the set-list, ‘Maggie May‘ the only track from ‘Every Picture Tells A Story‘ performed with any regularity.
The renditions were great, the Faces ’75 live shows by all accounts colourful and hugely entertaining.
At the heart of these gigs were songs taken from an album that three years before someone had the wit and good sense to name ‘Never a Dull Moment‘.
ROD STEWART – NEVER A DULL MOMENT (released July 21st 1972):
True Blue/Lost Paraguayous/Mama, You Been on My Mind/Italian Girls/Angel/Interludings/You Wear It Well/I’d Rather Go Blind/Twistin’ the Night Away;
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