It resolves itself into a sound that evokes London, Birmingham, the English countryside, pubs, boutiques, dance halls, football fields and Robin Hood, usually all at once. They’ve worked out a sound and now they work within it: brilliant strummed cues from Quittenton, steady and inspired drumming from Waller, bass playing of remarkable sympathy from Wood or Lane, fluid, thoughtful leads from Wood, and an absolutely gorgeous organ from McLagan. The group Rod summons for these albums may be the best around. Stewart has no intention of going that route after all, he got into rock and roll to have a good time.įor a change, let’s talk about the band. If that seems like a somewhat abstract task, we can remember that some of Rod’s precursors in the game of rock and roll stardom failed at it, and lost their lives in the bargain. Just as Rod is really at the top now, he still knows where the bottom is, and I think this album is about working out a point of view that makes it possible to live with pleasure and honesty in either place or anywhere in between. Because Rod wanted to be a football star once, and he didn’t make it. The first fold-out presents the complete superstar trip: Yes, folks, he filled that football stadium all by himself! And the second fold-out shows Rod and his musical pals lined up in a row, also on a football field (we call it soccer), this time in England. The packaging is quite spectacular, and it took me a few minutes to find the record itself, but the packaging tells at least two stories this time. Rod Stewart’s fourth solo album is a warm, easy-going, good-humored piece of music.
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