REVIEW: Rod Stewart, When We Were The New Boys (Warner)
- Bill Holmes
Rumors about the comeback of The Rooster Of Rock were flying the moment this album's concept was leaked to the press last year; the common thread being that Rod was making a rock record that could stand alongside Every Picture Tells A Story or any Faces disc. As fans became excited and critics sharpened their axes (for the inevitable failure), the further details regarding the "cover song" concept became available, leading both fans and critics ready to write the old man's epitaph - not only has he lost his way musically, but now even his muse has left him.
As someone from the other side of the pond might say, "Bollocks"!
Scrape away all the surface crap about Rod's Hollywood image, his tabloid romance diary fodder and every other preconceived notion and you just might remember that Mr. Stewart is one of the best interpretive performers of the last thirty years. Whether breathing fire into the classic "I'm Losing You", celebrating the joyous "People Get Ready" or rocking out with covers of his beloved Sam Cooke, Stewart has always peppered his records with inspired versions of other's work; casual fans might be surprised how many of his covers are superior to the originals.
But the big misnomer here is the "rock album" tag - while half the songs light a bigger fire than most of recent memory, the others fall into that literate ballad category that Rod has mined for gold. On this record, Rod digs down a little deeper and sings in his upper register more than usual - a bold step for an elder singer, but perhaps his own way of proving a point. "Superstar", complete with the opening fanfare that screams "sensitive ballad", is a prime example; Rod's pleading vocals cascading above the melody. Ron Sexsmith's "Secret Heart" follows, framing Rod's voice in a beautiful acoustic arrangement that proves his pipes are as strong as his phrasing. Perhaps the most beautiful song on the record is Nick Lowe's "Shelly My Love", yet another ballad that boldly leaves Rod's vocals naked against the framework of the song. They might be mellow, but they are among the most beautifully fragile performances of his career. Perhaps his most challenging vocal is on "Weak", the passionate power ballad by Skunk Anasie that truly pushes his gravel voice to the limit.
A nod and a wink to his departed bandmate Ronnie Lane, the arrangement of "Ooh La La" recalls the atmosphere of his early records when Pete Sears and Mickey Waller and Martin Quittenton and others brought his folksy vision to life. Ditto the closing track, the Dylanesque "What Do You Want Me To Do" from Waterboy Mike Scott, simple acoustic and harp easing the record to a close. This is the first record that Rod has self-produced in years, and it reinforces the fact that he has always been his own best producer, balancing sparse ballads and full band rock and making it cohesive.
As far as pure adrenaline rock, there are really only three kick-ass moments. The opening track and single "Cigarettes And Alcohol" (Oasis) gets full "Brown Sugar" treatment, complete with horns and saucy background vocalists (take THAT, Liam!). Turn the knob up as well for the vastly underrated Graham Parker's raucous "Hotel Chambermaid" and especially the Stones arrangement of Primal Scream's "Rocks", a no-brainer for his upcoming live show. But the arrangements and playing here are far more reminiscent of his post-emigration American bands than classic Faces material. As talented as any of his bands and sidemen have been over the years (and make no mistake, there have been many heavy-hitters), there will never be another song that will recapture the magic of the golden era. Why? Because as much as neither one will ever say so publicly, the combination of Ron Wood and Rod Stewart created a magic that neither has been able to match without the other. Watching the video of Unplugged And Seated, even with the acoustic setting, it is obvious how the two naturally feed off each other. So while he may be recapturing his roots (the album art's little side joke), the rock is more along the level of "Hot Legs" than "Stay With Me".
But he knows that better than anyone. The centerpiece of When We Were The New Boys is the title song, the lone track penned by Stewart (co-written with band mate Kevin Savigar). The tempo and lyrical framework will immediately recall both "Forever Young" and "I Was Only Joking", and like those, contain autobiographical lyrics that perhaps here are more poignant than ever. Stewart's well aware of his past glories, and also that he cannot turn back that clock, no matter how much his fans (and probably himself) might want him to. But while he's not trying to recapture the torch, he's not passing it either - if you want it, Noel, come on and get it. The lyrics are among the best he has ever written, and I suspect one of the most introspective looks he has permitted us to share:
"We never dreamed it could ever end / This was our moment, this was our space / This was a jewel of a time to have graced / But they're all sweet memories now / When we were the new boys..."
At ten songs and forty-one minutes, even the time recalls the vinyl era (and if you consider "Secret Heart" the end of side one, "Hotel Chambermaid" is the ass-kicker that every side two needs to open with). While this might be a little short for his ever-zealous fans, it should be just long enough to prove his point. Rod The Mod has still got it in spades, and his finest record since Never A Dull Moment shows a man comfortable with his past, not jealous of it.
