Rod Stewart: Graded on a Curve – Never a Dull Moment (1972)

From thevinyldistrict.com

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.

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. 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.

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. 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. “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. Fantastic tune.

But 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. (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!”

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. 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. 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.

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. 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.

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. 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.

“Interludings” is a 40-second acoustic guitar throwaway, of the sort I hate on albums, but fortunately it leads straight into “You Wear It Well,” which features a great acoustic guitar and organ opening while highlighting all of Stewart’s strengths: his self-deprecating humor, his skill at playing the mirthful miscreant, and his knack for mixing heartbreak with a dedication to keep going, despite the obstacles. “Madam Onassis got nothing on you” he tells his former love over a great violin, and then adds the kicker—“I ain’t forgettin’ you were once mine/But I blew it without even tryin’,” which he follows with his trademark humility: “So when the sun goes low/And you’re home all alone/Think of me and try not to laugh,” lines that sum up Stewart at his devil-may-care best.

“I’d Rather Go Blind” may not thrill me, but Stewart does a more than adequate job of interpreting it, and it has the added advantage of sounding like a classic Faces tune. So far as I can tell all of the boys are playing on the tune, including the great Ronnie Lane, who would ultimately quit the Faces, unhappy at the way they’d been demoted from equal status to Stewart’s de facto backing band. And McLagan’s organ is a wonder to behold.

Meanwhile, closer “Twistin’ the Night Away” is a punchy and characteristically loose take on the Sam Cooke classic, and features one cock walk of a guitar solo by Wood as well as some fantastic drum smash by Micky Waller. I especially love the way it picks up speed toward the end, and concludes with some great drum pummel and lots of twisting guitar licks by Wood.

It’s heartrending really, listening to this album and knowing what was to come. Stewart, the guy who gave us the immortal Every Picture Tells a Story, sold himself cheap and turned himself into a tawdry commodity and sex object (“Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?”), and for what? Filthy lucre. Somebody once told me an ex-wife said Stewart was so cheap he hated to give his piss away for free, but that could just be urban legend.

Still, the bottom line stands, and as Stewart aged his lovable rogue persona just became sleazy; there’s a fine line between your randy imp and a dirty old man, and Stewart crossed that line and never looked back. Too bad for him. Too bad for all of us. Because in his prime, nobody played the perpetual reprobate with even half the panache as he did.

Rod Stewart Never A Dull Moment (1972): How Rod Kicked His Career Into High Gear (2021)

From udiscovermusic.com

‘Never A Dull Moment’ found Rod Stewart laying down some of the finest songs he ever recorded, ‘played with gusto by the Faces in splendid disarray.’

The ironic album portrait may have suggested otherwise, but life was anything but boring for Rod Stewart in 1972. After endless toil, he had made it big beyond his wildest imaginings the year before, both as a solo artist and with his beloved Faces.

Now, after the spectacular breakthrough of Rod’s Every Picture Tells A Story album and “Maggie May” single, came further new glory. The follow-up album may have featured more than a little help from his mates, but it was again entirely self-produced. When it was released, on July 21, Never A Dull Moment was an apt title.

Faces by another name

The north London-born singer won praise for his diligence on the new album in both his songwriting and choice of outside material. He composed three songs for Never A Dull Moment with his longtime pal and confidant Ronnie Wood, while the album’s best-known track, the glorious single “You Wear It Well,” was another collaboration with writer-guitarist Martin Quittenton, Rod’s foil on “Maggie May.” Elsewhere, Stewart’s range of influences was well displayed with a range of covers of such inspirations as Sam Cooke, Jimi Hendrix and Bob Dylan.

To equal the achievements of late 1971 would be the tallest of orders. “Maggie May” and Every Picture Tells A Story had recorded the extremely rare achievement of each topping the charts on both sides of the Atlantic at the same time. But the focus now, admirably, was on creative credibility rather than out-and-out commercial potential. Recording the new album at two London studios, Morgan and Olympic, Stewart the producer created an ambience in which the artistic camaraderie oozed from the grooves.

Never A Dull Moment opened confidently with two of the Stewart-Wood creations, the first the relaxed and melodic “True Blue.” It was, effectively, the good-time rock of Faces by another name, with Rod’s spontaneous energy complemented by Wood’s urgent electric guitar, Ian “Mac” McLagan’s eloquent electric piano, Ronnie “Plonk” Lane’s steady bass (on this song and on two others) and, for this song only, the drums of Kenney Jones (replaced elsewhere by Micky Waller).

‘The best rocker Stewart has committed to vinyl’

An enthusiastic fan of this opening salvo was writer Mark Leviton, who reviewed the album for the New York-based Words And Music magazine. “Stewart’s unique, bright songwriting talents are highlighted with the opening ‘True Blue’,” he wrote. “Rod writes catchy lyrics, couplets that leave a real impression because of their looseness and the way they flow naturally off the tongue.

“The hero of the cut is Ian McLagan, who contributes dazzling electric piano. Ron Wood and Kenn[e]y Jones produce crisp assertive lines with clever syncopations which make this tune the most cooking Faces recording for a long time. ‘True Blue’ may just be the best rocker Stewart has committed to vinyl in his last three outings.”

That led to the splendid “Lost Paraguayos’, which showcased more of Stewart’s winningly plain-speaking lyrics, especially concerning his relationships with women. Wood’s nimble fretwork had uncredited horns as their counterpoint, as the narrator announced his departure for South America.

‘There’s no letdown’

The album’s first cover was of Dylan’s “Mama, You Been On My Mind.” The bard wrote this song in 1964 and performed it in concert, but didn’t release his version until decades later, on 1991’s The Bootleg Series Vol.1-3 (Rare And Unreleased) 1961-1991. Stewart’s superbly sympathetic reading was underpinned by Waller’s drums and Wood’s lyrical pedal steel.

“Italian Girls” was a brawny Stewart-Wood rock workout with much to admire, including Lane’s lithe bass runs, McLagan’s stirring piano detail and Dick Powell on violin (as he was, thrillingly, on “You Wear It Well”). Mandolin was by Newcastle-upon-Tyne’s very own Lindisfarne’s Ray Jackson, also a key feature of “Maggie May.”

Ken Barnes in Phonograph Record offered another highly supportive review of the album. “The Stewart formula,” he avowed, “is broad-based enough to allow for widely varied species of old folk tunes, blues and funk numbers, hard rockers, and the melodic ‘Maggie May’ mainstream; the instrumentalists have it all down, Rod himself stands ready to apply the smooth sandpaper finish, and all that’s required for another ace album is a new set of dynamics – and on Never A Dull Moment there’s no letdown in this department.”

‘When Stewart strikes, the listener gets caught’

Side Two of the original vinyl album began with Rod’s tribute to Woody’s late friend Jimi Hendrix, with a suitably reflective remake of “Angel.” Later in the year, it would be released as a double-sided single with Stewart’s take on Jerry Lee Lewis’ “What Made Milwaukee Famous,” creating a No.4 UK hit. In his notes for the 1989 box set Storyteller, Rod described his version of “Angel” as being “played with gusto by the Faces in splendid disarray.”

The album’s 40-second “Interludings” constituted an acoustic guitar piece with a writing credit for Ronnie Wood’s older brother Art. Then came “You Wear It Well,” which gave the singer another UK No.1 single and which stands as one of his greatest pieces of work. It recreated the feel of “Maggie May,” but with its own marvellous mood and a self-effacingly rueful lyric about a lost love.

“Very similar to [‘Maggie May’] in many ways (which I was quite aware of),” wrote Stewart of the new hit. “I’ve always loved the combination of acoustic guitar with loud snare drum and Hammond organ – played here by the delectable Ian McLagan, of loud, obtrusive sock fame.”

‘Isn’t that what rock’n’roll is all about?’

Never A Dull Moment was also the album on which Rod offered his interpretation of the much-covered Billy Foster/Ellington Jordan song most associated with Etta James, “I’d Rather Go Blind.” James cut it in 1967 and British blues band Chicken Shack had scored the UK hit with it in 1969. Stewart’s pass at the song spoke of his backstory as a rhythm’n’blues devotee. “I first heard Etta James sing this, a version I urge you to find and listen to,” he wrote. “In the meantime, here’s my humble effort.”

The album closed with a tip of the hat to another of Rod’s greatest heroes, Sam Cooke, on a rollicking version of Sam’s 1962 pop and R&B hit “Twistin’ The Night Away.” “I could never sing it better, so we just took it in another direction,” he said modestly.

Gold in no time

Never A Dull Moment entered the UK chart at No.5 and was certified gold there within a week of release. It moved up to No.3 and then spent no fewer than four weeks at No.2, before a two-week run at the top in September. In America, the album rose to No.2, only beaten to the top spot by Chicago V. It was also a Top 3 seller in Australia, Holland and elsewhere.

Mark Leviton of Words And Music wrote of “Twistin’ The Night Away,” in summary of the album: “The closer embodies all the qualities that one admires in Stewart, the refusal to take himself too seriously, the attention to detailed arranging, the energetic involvement in the material, the way his voice can propel a tune as well as the best drummer. When Stewart strikes, the listener gets caught up and has a good time right along with him. And isn’t that what rock’n’roll is all about?”