...And Woody’s Got Keith Richard

The rehearsal hall is twenty minutes outside London at Shepperton Studios, where a hefty chunk of those dreary English films that fill up your late-nite TV hours were brought into being. That big banner across the front of the soundstage read Uriah Heep (a ghost from a recent Midnight Special taping) until some witty blade spray-painted a “Di” preface which transformed it into ... well, you can easily read it for yourself. Onstage, Faces guitarist Ron Wood is trotting his pickup band through their paces in preparation for , two live gigs that were spawned out of sessions for his solo album, I’ve Got My Own Album To Do.

But this is hardly your everyday pickup band. Over there, -almost lost behind the huge Steinway piano, sits Faces mate Ian McLagan. The guitar player to his right, the one with the pasty chalk-like complexion and seemingly omnipresent head-lice, could only be Keith Richard. When Mssrs. Wood and Richard step to the mike for some harmonies on a number called “Cancel Everything,” it’s difficult at first glance to tell them apart; the effect is not unlike a degenerate Everly Brothers.

Woody removes his guitar and wanders round the stage like some out-ofwork costermonger, while Keith stares down at his fretboard, still playing riffs as if they’re the only thing that’ll keep him from completely keeling over his amplifier. The bassplayer gets literally laid-back — stretched out on the drum riser — prompting a typically jaundiced comment from legendary Stones road manager (and behind-the-curtains piano player) Ian Stewart, who’s only down here because Keith needed his amp. “This band needs a leader,” he mutters, casting a disparaging* glance at the activity or lack of it.

"It’s no fun if you’re there by yourself."

“Yeah,” counters Chuch, lead Faces roadie, “they were gonna get Legs Larry Smith to come on an’ keep things light-hearted, y’know, do a couple sketches. But he went off with Clapton

“Finished the new Stones album today,” counters Stew. “Gave it the final touch. Somebody had to.”

“Yeah, Keith played us some tracks. They sound kinda like Sticky Fingers stuff, don’t they?”

“We-e-11, I’d say they were an improvement on the last effort. Too insipid, that one was!” With that, Stew directs his doleful stare back in the direction of the stage.

But Stew wasn’t strictly accurate about the untogetherness. Already four numbers have been worked through in the space of an hour: “Mystifies Me,” a Wood song that opens the album. The number Rod Stewart sings , “I Can Feel The Fire,” which switches effortlessly from reggae to surging hard rock and back (the album track features steel drums and the presence of one Mick Jagger on second vocal). Keith’s own “She’s Sure the One You Need,” plus Freddie Scott’s “Am I Groovin’ You.” “Cancel Everything,” another Woody composition, make it five.

Still, it’s a strange conglomerate to say the least. You know the superstars — Wood, Richard and McLagan — but let’s not overlook the professionals. New York drummer Andy Newmark played with the Headliners and Carly Simon before winning his purple heart with Sly & The Family Stone. He looks like any other long-haired college kid, but, when he works his kit it sounds like his hands and feet are involved in some intricate rhythm conversation with each other.

And there’s bassist Mr. Willy Weeks who, rumor has it, performs at all those Donny Hathaway/Aretha Franklin sessions sprawled out on a sunlounge chair. As Keith Richard observed during the evening, he’s more or less taken over the top New York session seat from Chuck Rainey, leaving only James Jamerson (the sturdy Motown genius) around for competition.

So here we have a grand meshing together of sublime musicianship and the archetypal dishevelled get-down, not to mention the fact that Wood and Richard do play painfully similar roles within their respective bands. The latter situation appears so far to have worked out in practice to the point that the two compliment each other’s presence and musical capacity quite effectively. The full flowering of this guitar pairing comes on Wood’s “Shirleyfor which Richard throws in a bastard riff from the Stones’ “Monkey Man,” slurring the lick against the grain of Newmark’s drumming. The Richard influence is well-stamped throughout Wood’s album, so much so that many have claimed the effort bears more in common with Stones product than with Faces work.

Six Woody originals mingle with a couple of Richard one-offs, the Freddie Scott tune, James Rae’s “If You Got To Make A Fool Of Somebody” and Willy Weeks’ own “Crotch Music.” But it is Richard’s presence that has given what could so easily have been yet another aimless supersession masquerading as a solo album the edge of notoriety it’s currently gaining for itself.

After all, the likes of George Harrison and Mick Taylor are proverbial veterans of that whole incestuous treadmill, while even Mick Jagger is no slouch in the studio where his friends are concerned. The other names who dropped by — Rod Stewart, Eric Clapton, David Bowie, Rick Gretch — play the circuit regularly. But the vision of Keith Richard involving himself so wholeheartedly in a project beyond the Stones — and, according to some, at the expense of a few sessions for the Stones album — can only be interpreted as being indicative of something going on beyond the usual half-baked premises that seem to presage your standard solo tedium.

Rofonie Wood, though, of all people, has seemingly managed to pull something of real substance out of the aforementioned treadmill, having thankfully taken care of the basics. Which are (a) sturdy well-constructed songs, and (b) a good rhythm section. The very presence of Weeks and Newmark is the real incentive for Wood and Richard to even contemplate going through the process of taking the show onstage. The gigs had to be planned in advance of the album because of Woody’s upcoming Faces commitments and, more to the point, Keith’s almost immediate move to Jamaica, where he plans to live.

“I’m probably gonna produce some stuff for the Rastas,” he muttered during the break in rehearsals. “Y’see, I’d never thought of doing anything on my own. As far as I’m concerned, it’s no fun if you’re there by yourself; just you and your ego, and of course your ego comes out on top every time. You need somebody to bounce ideas off, to have a laugh with. Two people can deflate each other nicely, that’s how it works with . Mick, and it’s happening at the momeht with Ronnie. It feels good because it’s tight and also it’s being done the right way for the right reasons.

“The only other persoh I’ve ever -thought of working with in that context was Gram Parsons. That could have been good, but if I was to dasomething on my own, it would be just ridiculous because it would only sound like the Rolling Stones but without Mick singing. But really, the ones worth watching in this band are Willy and Andy.”

At this point Woody wandered into the conversation. “First time I saw Andy ... it was with Sly ... I just couldn’t keep my eyes off him. I was standing at the back of the ' stage, y’know, right next to his kit and I couldn’t believe it. We played together shortly after that and we got on really well together. So all the time I was thinking, if I’m going to make a solo album, he’s the guy I’ve got to ’ave playing the drums, y’know. So finally I contact him, and at this point I’d decided to play bass because I was getting back, into it again. Andy-then mentioned that he. had this friend in New York who was free at the time and who played bass, but I wasn’t interested until I heard his name ... Willy Weeks! Because I mean, that track he plays on .. . the Donny Hathaway song ‘Everything Is Everything,’ I never used to stop playing that. He’s been a hero for so long .;.

“And ‘im?” Wood gestures toward the lovely Keith. “Well, what can you say? I’ve wanted to work with Keith so long. It’s weird because my wife Chrissie just met him down at Tramp’s one night an’ invited him back to see what I was doing. And he ended up staying for something like three weeks; just moved in, y’know

“Hey,-did you see the Stones on TV the other night? The sailor suits! And Charlie in all that, foam. That song — ‘It’s Only Rock & Roll But I Like It’ -Mick recorded that with David Bowie and me down at my studios. Mick and I played the guitars and then the three of us did the vocals. Then Mick took the track and the Stones reconstructed it.” He grins almost with pride for a second. You turn around for another cigarette and when you look back, Keith, Mac and Woody are straggling off in the direction of'the toilets for the umpteenth time of the evening.

The effect is not unlike a degenerate Eyerly Brothers,

! “Mick Taylor didn’t make it. ’E’s down in the country producing some group. Forgotten their name,” murmured Keith on the evening of the first show. And Mick Jagger?“Oh, ’e’s in L.A. fighting Allen Klein. Lawsuits and the whole thing.” Will he win? “Looks that way. It’s about time. Klein’s deserved it long enough. From all sides.”

Rod Stewart’s here, though, and so’s George Harrison with his hair cut and new denims. “He wanted to be the compere, y’know,” grinned Woody, though George is sticking close to the bar. Elton and Jeff Beck would make it down the following evening.

A long wait and then Woody and Friends stagger onstage. Newmark and Weeks in white, McLagan looking like a glamorous bookie, Keith swaggering around.like the local yokel gone ritzy in his ancient ,Nudie jacket, and Wood himself in what looks suspiciously like one of Eno’s old castoffs. He looks just like a parrot.

A bit of up-tempo opening funk finds Richard more or less inert, dividing his time between fiddling with the volume button on his amp and leaning against a piano. Then he suddenly lurches into action just as at the rehearsals, motivating himself between alternate states of almost pained zombiedom and hyper-activity.

Wood is handling his end well enough, playing rough guitar over the impeccable Weeks/Newmark axis. Both the guitarists, ultimate second fiddle artists in their own bands, pad out the spotlight very well: Woody stalking around the stage like a low comic while Richard is starting to feel his stride, working the more vigorous passages as if each were his last chance. Then a very dapper Rod Stewart appears from the left of the stage — frilled shirt, white slacks, scarves and a black jacket - and vamps up the James Rae tune 'with Woody and Keith, straight through “Mystifies Me” and finishes off with a dynamic rocker which nobody bothers to introduce. “Rodders” then waltzes off to the evening’s first burst of teen action from the audience, giving Keith an opportunity to lurch over to the electric piano, which he will go on to play quite agreeably on one of his songs called “Act Together.”

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CONTINUED FROM PAGE 42.

The band is now jelling nicely; the session musician perfection on one side blending in with the rough diamond bite from the other and sparking off. Somewhere along the line they played a quite amazing slowie of Wood’s called “Forever,” and there was an eVer-so-solid version of “I Can’t Stand The Rain.” Keith’s “She’s Sure The One You Need” was great, starting off with (what else) a “Little Queenie” chord structure before veering off into its own territory. Then Weeks’ “Crotch Music,” which sounds like two basses playing until you look hard a second time, and finally “I Can Feel The Fire,” which I’m still singing. It was just one of those nights.