Humble pie smokin vinyl mod#

“The Fixer” is a steamroller, but it’s not so heavy that it just grinds to a halt so that you have to collect a team of circus strongmen to push it off the road. White boogie rarely sounded this good, or danceable for that matter. And it just gets better and better as it goes along, with Marriott tossing in some splendid guitar as the song comes to a close. And Marriott’s vocals go where few vocals have gone before. Opening cut “Hot ‘n’ Nasty”-which should not be confused with the great Black Oak Arkansas song of the same name-is one truly funkified number thanks to some powerhouse organ and excellent piano work. It was the song that would help make Smokin’ Humble Pie’s highest charting LP ever, and it’s a riff’n’roll triumph with lots of great vocals, some great bass by Greg Ridley, and the imaginative drumming of young Jerry Shirley. Yet I continue to turn to Humble Pie, attracted by Marriott’s astounding vocals, mean guitar work, and occasional ability to come up with a song that boogies as hard as the soulful “30 Days in the Hole” off 1972’s Smokin’, which demonstrates that Marriott had at least one borderline excellent boogie record in him. None of these things have helped Marriott’s posterity-everybody loves the Faces, but Humble Pie is more of a footnote and acquired taste for the kinds of tossers drawn to the Brit Blues likes of Savoy Brown, Blodwyn Pig, and the Groundhogs. Finally, Marriott liked to stretch ‘em out live-it gave him more time to testify, brothers and sisters-as is evident on 1971’s Performance: Rockin’ the Fillmore.

And unlike the Faces, who had a deceptively light touch, Marriott opted to go-for the most part at least-the hard blues route.

Humble pie smokin vinyl mod#

While Rod the Mod and Company were getting soused on stage and having fun, serious Steve was rewriting Ike and Tina Turner’s “Black Coffee” to make clear that his skin was white but his soul was black. The answer lies, I think, in the fact that while the Faces played ‘em fast and loose with an irrepressible spirit of camaraderie and fun, Marriott-who certainly had the pipes to pull it off-wanted desperately to be a testifyin’ boogie man. But all too often-and believe me when I say I keep trying-I’m left wondering how the electrifying former frontman of the Small Faces went so wrong when the regular-sized Faces went so right. And occasionally-as on such songs as “Beckton Dumps” and “Shut Up and Don’t Interrupt Me” off 1973’ live Eat It LP-I am. The fact is I return again and again to Steve Marriott and Humble Pie’s refried boogie like a dog chained to its vomit, seeking in vain to be sanctified. It may not be as unsavory as my obsession with the impossibly déclassé Grand Funk Railroad, but still. I have an unwholesome relationship with Humble Pie.