7 Small Faces songs haunting the Inner Turntable.

Whatcha gonna do about it?

A rarity amongst his contemporaries, Steve Marriott was not the amateur most were when he arrived at the rock and roll lifestyle.

That he’d had a run in a West End production of Oliver is hardly surprising. A combination of urchin cheek and street brawler, an Artful Dodger in the latest mod threads.

Despite his soulful voice, Marriott and the Small Faces exuded a certain Englishness that most of the British R&B aspirants eschewed. The exception being Ray Davies and the Kinks, of course, who were altogther more genteel. By the time they got to Face To Face anyway.

Did this impact on their chart success in the States?

With only Itchycoo Park scraping the lower rungs of the top twenty this could be the case. While chart success may not have materialised, many American bands name the Small Faces, and Marriott’s vocals in particular, as a big influence.

The rise and fall of the Small Faces is as much the story of Immediate Records, Andrew Loog Oldham’s vehicle that heavily financed the studio time needed to execute the sonic wonders of Itchycoo Park and Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake.

Immediate also managed to execute the late sixties cliche of unpaid artists, financial mismanagement and embezzlement.

That the Small Faces devolved into Humble Pie and the Faces had its ups and downs. The main downer being the breakup of their core songwriting team of Ronnie Lane and Marriott. In many ways Ronnie Lane’s earthy folkiness was the perfect foil for Marriott’s blustering blues.

That Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake remains one of the best and most enjoyable Sgt Pepper’s “clones” is in part due to this more balanced perspective, and once again, a decent budget from Immediate.

Had the Small Faces not devolved as described is an interesting what if? Still, I’m grateful for the songs we did get.

Tin Soldier

“All I need is your whispered hello”

The Small Faces sense of dynamics and emotional range gives their songs the enduring depth of the waves surging back and forth.

Opening with a restrained organ fill, the song rises and falls in sync with Marriott’s vocal, whispering one moment, belting the next.

They way the band locks into the groove, abetted by PP Arnold’s excellent backing vocals, gives this pop gem a swirling quality that packs a lot into a three minute burst.

That the song also points the way forward to their psychedelic excursions and the blues excess of Humble Pie is remarkable.

All or Nothing

There are no time limits on the inner turntable.

It’s winter here, so not a lot of opportunities to mow there lawn. When there is, I need to make the most of the occasion.

All or Nothing, which clocks in a just over 3 minutes on vinyl, managed to stay on the inner turntable for around two hours as I’ve pushed the lawn mower back and forth.

Frankly, I’ve be stuck on this song for a week now. Distraction is my middle name.

Part of the reason I finish each episode with the next episode it to force myself to finish it. Either do or do not. All or nothing.

Perhaps that’s the insight I’ve been looking for. Steve Marriott, the Yoda of rock.

My Mind’s Eye

The nature of subculture is walking a different path to the mainstream. To be a mod was to be both dandy and rebel.

Successful bands like the Small Faces and the Who didn’t need a day job to pay for the side-vent suits either. Anti-social positioning was to be expected.

Mod, a subculture built on flashy Continental style, amphetimines, hard and fast music, and a bit of biffo, didn’t necessarity present itself as the ideal substrate for LSD epiphanies, yet maybe that’s what helped the Small Faces keep it taunt when the acid dropped.

Adding a psychedelic veneer to this bluesy pop number, or was that the other way around? The Small Faces take to it like ducks skiving off in the pond at the local park. Itchycoo Park?

No doubt.

Itchycoo Park

The ducks liked it at the park and return for some full blown psychedelia. Somehow, Steve Marriott still manages to keep the street-smart wit of his mod years, avoiding any dribbling hippiness even as he declared “We’ll get high, We’ll touch the sky!” and yes, school does rhyme with the words of fools.

A testament to Immediate’s generosity in the studio, the multilayer, contorted and phased sound is entirely appropriate, the track embodies a joyous romp in the park, eschewing the cynicism and artifice of the more opportunistic bandwagon jumpers.

As for the Small Faces transition into psychedelia, they were only getting started.

Song of the Baker

Group dynamics often have an impact beyond the capabilities of the individuals. It’s tough being a good vocalist like Ronnie Lane in a band with a great one like Steve Marriott.

It only took George Harrison thirteen albums before they released one of his songs as a single!

This, in some ways, is part of the tragedy of the Small Faces. Song of the Baker has a folkish flavour both lyrically and sonically and that does nothing but add to the dimension of the band.

Furthermore, that folkishness had none of the trad English vibes of the likes of Steeleye Span that would be off putting, particularly to an American audience. So much of Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake, the album from which this comes, is pointing in interesting new directions.

In some ways, Steve Marriott sounds like he’s not sure what to do with himself.

Red Balloon

By the time he got to Red Balloon, he’d appeared to have worked that out.

Some more bluesy folk rock, this time in the form of a Tim Hardin cover.

“I haven’t any time for children, although I got a lot.”

Delivered with perfect pathos by Marriott, once again eschewing the academic archivalism of the more serious English folk rockers.

Afterglow(Of your love)

A perfect slice of psychedelic soul, release as a single just after their demise. Like most of the best Small Faces tunes, co-written with Ronnie Lane. At least musically, it’s hard to understand why they broke up. Their later work feels drenched in creative potential.

I can’t help but contrast Afterglow with Natural Born Bugie, Humble Pie’s first single. A solid, but pedestrain, blues chugger. The way Marriott, Peter Frampton and Greg Ridley share to vocals suggest it could have been anyone singing.

Kennie Jones claims the two main reasons for the split were a feeling of being pigeonholed as a “pop group” and their inability to translate their more complex studio efforts into a live setting. Jones perhaps also acknowledged that both of these could have been resolved with just a little patience and imagination.

The Small Faces weren’t the only ones to bemoan the translation from studio to stage. Everytime the argument comes up I alway think of Zoot’s version of Eleanor Rigby. Yes, eagle eye, that’s Rick “Jessie’s Girl” Springfield on lead guitar. Sometimes, the live version just needs a different approach.

I would have loved to have heard the Small Faces give Itchycoo Park a similar treatment.

This is the twelfth installment in the Inner Turntable Series. You can read the eleventh here.

Up next, 7 Roxy Music Songs haunting the Inner Turntable.