Given the internal conflicts afflicting Faces at the time of recording Ooh La La (released 3/31/73), it’s a borderline miracle the band completed the album at all. But through their inherent professional pride, plus self-discipline nurtured by the close supervision of producer/engineer Glyn Johns, the group transformed a commentary on their own dissolution into a respectable record, one of a piece with their previous three studio outings.
The LP arrived only after some increasingly protracted grappling for a balance between lead vocalist Rod Stewart’s burgeoning solo career and Faces’ own pursuits. A reasonable equilibrium broke down during these sessions, however, thus reducing most of the raunchy high spirits that made Faces lovable (albeit only as ersatz Rolling Stones).
Still, the devil-may-care charm isn’t all gone. “Silicone Grown” is a cold-hearted dismissal couched in boozy boogie, while “Cindy Incidentally” is a more soft-hearted admission of the inevitable parting from a short-lived romance (one-night stand?). To his credit, the lead singer–who was reportedly AWOL from the early stages of work–sounds no less convincing on these tracks than on the previous Faces long-player A Nod Is As Good As a Wink To A Blind Horse (arguably the pinnacle of their discography).
And Ronnie Wood’s guitar playing, in general, is as focused as it sounded on Stewart’s solo projects. But it’s no great distinction on a group-composed instrumental, “Fly In The Ointment,” which appears near the home stretch of the half-hour vinyl; along the way, a generally uptempo tenor in the form of “My Fault” gives way to a more subdued and reflective mood, epitomized by Ronnie Lane’s “Glad and Sorry.”
Cushioned by Ian McLagan’s genuinely touching piano, the bassist’s lead vocals on this tender ode to conflict belied his co-writing with The Mod on “Flags and Banners” as well as “If I’m On The Late Side.” Still, the latter’s scathing comments on the quality of the effort led to his co-author’s departure from the group he co-founded, but, ironically, only after it reached the top spot on a British sales chart.
In retrospect, the movable die-cut front cover design of Ooh La La seems only the most overt of multiple forced attempts to (literally) put a brave face on an untoward set of circumstances. The photo arrangement on the reverse actually makes more sense in the context of how the album came out: Woody’s photo is at the center of the five, with Rod off to the side and the bottom.
An altered timeline might’ve seen Faces soldiering on in such a four-piece alignment. Such a lineup would be arguably no less anonymous than future offerings like Atlantic Crossing under Stewart’s own name alone. But Ronnie had a destiny of his own he had yet to fulfill, that is, acquiescing to Mick Jagger’s invitation to join the Stones, upon the departure of Mick Taylor, two years after this final Faces studio album came out.
Various outtakes from the Ooh La La session have circulated officially and unofficially in the interim since its release a half-century ago Generally speaking, though, like the five included on the expanded CD inside the box titled You Can Make Me Dance, Sing or Anything, they do little more than reaffirm the impression of a band at a loss for fresh ideas or enlivened by the usual ones.
The very lack of inspiration only renders appropriate the choice of the title song as the closing cut. Written by Lane and Wood, it is not the sure-fire hit that was “Stay With Me,” in part because it’s delivered by the latter with such reserved melancholy. But his homely voice also serves to highlight the sing-song quality of the tune: little wonder it’s been so frequently and effectively utilized for film and television over the years.
With five-decade hindsight in that regard, the sequence of events surrounding Ooh La La is right in line with the very serendipity that brought the band together. Stewart and Wood found themselves free of commitments upon the dissolution of the original Jeff Beck Group, while Steve Marriott had just left the Small Faces to form Humble Pie with Peter Frampton.
And while a shared history allowed the original Small Faces to reunite, sans their flamboyant lead singer, prior to the passing of Lane (who endured multiple sclerosis for over two decades before succumbing), the passage of time also fostered the reunion of Stewart, Wood, and drummer Kenney Jones in later years, albeit to only stunted effect.
Such activity only bears out the passing thought arising from a listen to Ooh La La through the retrospect of fifty years: Faces were successful despite themselves.
