When God created rock & roll, THIS is what He was going for!
Written: Jul 31 '00 (Updated Mar 03 '01)
Product Rating:
Pros: the essence of rock and roll in all its glory
Cons: It's the only album like it, so when it's over, it's over
The Bottom Line: The epitome of raunchy, dirty, energetic, passionate rock & roll. Plus "Every Picture Tells A Story" (the song) is the greatest human achievement since footwear.
Musical_Guru's Full Review: Every Picture Tells a Story [Remaster] by Rod Stew...
It gets harder to believe with every passing year...but once upon a time, Rod Stewart epitomized everything that was great about pure, traditional, down-and-dirty rock n' roll music. His first few records were an incredible blend of folk, country, blues, early rock, attitude, and balls, and when you add to that perhaps the greatest interpretive rock vocals since Elvis Presley, you get everything that rock is supposed to be: raunch, grit, energy and bravado, in one package. Maybe he's the blond Tom Jones nowadays, but at the top of his game, when he was with the Faces and doing his early solo work, nobody outrocked Rod. Not Zeppelin, not the Stones, not the Allman Brothers--nobody.
Everything that Rod Stewart had done before '71 was building up to the music on Every Picture Tells A Story, and everything that came after it was anticlimactic. In actual fact it's almost as much a Faces album as it is a Stewart solo effort, but it's his energy and swagger that make it what few albums on earth are: perfect. There is not a single point of weakness anywhere on this album, except in that it ends.
The title track is the opener, and is the centerpiece of one of my most cherished memories. Thus I am probably a little bit biased when I say that it is the greatest recording of anything made by anyone ever. It's an acoustic number, with some embellishments by Ron Wood on the electric, but it's not a folk ballad. "Every Picture Tells A Story" is one of the most driving rock songs I've ever heard. Rod takes on the role of a blues shouter, screaming the lines in that fantastic raspy voice of his, channeling passion, fun, and energy into what translates as nearly a frenzy of rock n' roll. But what really makes the song is Mick Waller's fantastic drum fill, a simple, primitive line that Waller attacks with such sheer ferocity that it's a wonder his kit doesn't fall apart in the middle of the track. If you like the energy and attitude that are synonymous with rock & roll, you need at least the song "Every Picture Tells A Story." This is a song for listening to in your car while driving 85 miles per hour. This is a song for dancing and shadowboxing. This is a song for drinking beer and shouting the lyrics at the top of your lungs, just like Rod does.
After such an anthemic opener, anything else seems to be falling action. (After "Every Picture," Sgt. Pepper would be falling action.) So it's to Rod's credit that the rest of side one doesn't even try to match that energy. "Seems Like A Long Time" is a wistful, happy ode with a midtempo groove that's a little bit country and even a little bit gospel in its scope, celebrating life and memory. Then there are two great songs, one written by Bob Dylan, both probably best-known for Elvis' interpretations of them: "That's All Right, Mama" and "Tomorrow Is Such A Long Time." The former becomes a rollicking country blues, a Saturday-night beer joint number. The latter captures that rare Dylanesque trait of being both elegiac and absolutely joyful at the same time.
If side one is predominantly celebratory and rhapsodic, then side two is darker and almost mournful. It kicks off with the ubiquitous "Maggie Mae," the one song that people are guaranteed to remember Rod Stewart for after he's gone. You all know this bitter, somewhat mocking ode to an affair with an older woman, so it's only necessary to say that as a general rule, Side Two's tend to drag somewhat, and as such there has rarely been a better way to begin the second half of a record. We then continue into "Mandolin Wind," which is in reality a sentimental and happy ballad, but with such poignancy and pathos that it comes off as an elegy. It's almost impossible to listen to without wanting to tear up before the end.
The last two songs of these elite eight are really something to behold. Both are covers: the Temptations' "(I Know) I'm Losing You," and Tim Hardin's "(Find A) Reason to Believe." The first of these rivals the Motown original as the definitive version of the song. The Temps' version is a song of frustration, suspicion and confusion; Rod's is much darker, composed of anger and paranoia, complete with a killer blues piano hook. The song ends with Rod's vocal trailing past the end of the instrumental part, into empty space: "Im looosing youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..."
It is the perfect segue into "(Find A) Reason to Believe," which carries the moody vocal of the last song into a mournful piano intro, and then a soft, slow vocal that almost seems to break down in tears when joined by a country fiddle. It rings true, and holds the listener spellbound all the way to the fadeout.
Every Picture Tells A Story is not a politically or socially supercharged album, but one that captures the very root and core of rock and roll: the joys and frustrations of every day life, delivered with energy, attitude, and startling presence. It's that nature that renders it truly timeless. On top of that, it's some of the best unadulterated rock & roll ever made, and that makes it essential listening for anyone with even the slightest interest in real rock. The title track, of course, is for me the crowning achievement of Rod Stewart's career, but the rest of this album is cosmically superior to almost anything that was happening in rock & roll at the time, and is the only thing as pure as it is to ever come out of anyone. Go and get it now!
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