(Rhino)
!!!!! AVOID !!!!!
Rod Stewart's in my bottom half-dozen rock performers of all time, the rare individual who completely shuts my faculties off and makes my hair stand on end, and no, it's not just because of his supposedly sellout pop records later on, which if anything are more entertaining to me, but also -- geez, I'm sorry, but I will die happy if the opening notes of "Maggie May" never cross my ears again. (This loathing of Stewart is mild compared to my feelings for James Taylor, however.) But "Ooh La La" by his old band the Faces, on which Stewart doesn't sing lead (one of a handful of such instances on this two-disc compilation) has been an absolutely beloved song to me ever since, naturally, its expert placement at the end of Rushmore -- it's transcendent and sad, perfectly suited to that film. So I figured, maybe these two things will cancel each other out and I will somehow end up digging the Faces.
Nope. As Stewart would put it, no, no, no, no, no. This is pure bonehead-blues wank. I couldn't even make it through most of the songs. Nothing even approaches "Ooh La La," which on close inspection reflects the same idiotic vagina-hating bullshit you'd suspect of Stewart himself at his worst -- but the music is irresistible enough that it takes the wind out of its wrongheaded convictions. Maybe. Or maybe now that I know the song is basically about the fact that women are abusive sluts who will stomp all over innocent childlike Men, it will lose some of its magic. Then I can delete this entire shitty folder instead of everything except the one track.
I have absolutely nothing else to say about this tripe, so let's just run down some of my favorite lyrics from the bits I managed to listen to (and was able to remotely comprehend; the man just doesn't enunciate).
Well, well, hello and how are you?
Fancy seeing you here, don't let it show
No look, no one must know
It's hard to believe that this is the place
Where we were so happy all our lives
Miss Judy, she was moody
Owned a sweaty farm in old Alabama
I was just eighteen, crude and mean
And all I needed was to get my own way, get my own way
Your love is fading,
I can feel your love fading,
Woman it's fading away from me
In the mornin' don't say you love me
'Cause I'll only kick you out of the door
I know your name is Rita
'cause your perfume's smelling sweeter
Since when I saw you down on the floor
Most shameful moment of all: a five and a half-minute cover of Chuck Berry's sublime "Memphis." [pulls hair out]
One of the allmusic.com keywords for this compilation is "Guys Night Out." No wonder.
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