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Rating:
After two consecutive masterpieces, Little Feat find themselves somewhat demoralized with this album due to their undeserved lack of chart success, even though the group remains a great live attraction and continues to enjoy the respect of industry insiders.
Despite being burdened by a lot of negative toxins, for me, this is the most electrifying work by Lowell George's group. Of course, the "deserted" ballads of the early works, that sound so tied to the dusty American provinces made of abandoned wrecks and empty bars, of siestas under the patio waiting for nothing, are no longer there. In this album, there's more cityscape, noisy trucks stuck in traffic, prostitutes in broad daylight: '70s funk forcefully enters into the band's "strings" and becomes the dominant trait, although it is interwoven with the band's classic style. The compositional level, however, remains at the highest levels, and that is what matters.
"Rock And Roll Doctor" is a dirty r&b-rock incredibly arranged, with an enveloping and rhythmic cadence and a slide that carves and embellishes; the composition is defined through a thousand evolutions, making it difficult to discern verse from chorus, and one is astonished by the genius of the writing as the not even 3-minute track already ends.
George's great quality is that of writing unpredictable tracks where the classic verse-chorus structure is thrown out the window, so much so that in a single song you can count more than one verse and more than one chorus.
"Oh Atlanta" is a vigorous piano rock'n'roll with choral and country-esque choruses; the track is more linear than the previous one, but the way of renewing and mixing two "classic" genres (country and rock'n'roll) so convincingly and entertainingly is impressive.
"Skin It Back" is a kick-ass funky-rock, a classic of the genre. The guitar-keyboard riff is so successful that it seems like a famous track even to those who don't know it.
As in the first track, George's voice is so sexy and lived-in, brushing against and expanding the familiar territories of the best Jagger, is the winning weapon of an already stratospheric group.
"Down In The Road" is a sleepy rock-ballad (with hints of various other genres) that recalls the "Sailin'Shoes" period.
The darkest funk returns with the beautiful "Spanish Moon": brass arrangements, funky clavinet, voice, and backing vocals of great personality make it a track for a '70s soundtrack.
Musical surrealism returns with "Feats Don't Fail Me Now": gospel-boogie for drunks? I wouldn't know how to define this comprehensive and swaggering piece, fluid yet skewed.
With "The Fan," the Feats get serious: they launch into a jazz-rock with prog hues with ample instrumental digressions, supported by an obsessive and powerful rhythm ... a great track, unique in the band's discography.
To wrap it up splendidly, the Feats dive into a live-in-studio medley of the classics "Cold, Cold, Cold/Tripe Face Boogie": an excellent performance and beautiful central improvisation.
In short, this record is among the best albums of the '70s in the rock-blues field and is perhaps even more relevant than the previous two.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
02 Oh, Atlanta (03:29)
Oh Atlanta
-- B. Payne
They got a place down Kentucky
Right down near Ohio
Where you can watch the planes at night
People line up just to watch them fly
I wish I was on one
I'm sittin' here thinkin' 'bout my girl back home
If I could only see her tonight
Oh Atlanta, Oh Atlanta!
I said yeah! yeah! yeah! Atlanta, got to get back to you
Well you can drop me off on Peach Street
I got to feel that Georgia sun
And the women there in Atlanta
They make us both feel glad it's only hit and run
I said watchin' them planes
I wish I was on one
I'm sittin' here thinking 'bout a girl back home
Oh Atlanta, Oh Atlanta!
I said yeah! yeah! yeah! Atlanta, got to get back to you
You take a day o' nights it's just you and me
Where the diesel plays all night
They got the boogie man goin' 'round for hell
And when they get to movin' they never stop
You just keep on playin' that down home beat
You just keep on layin' down high
I wish I was on one
Sittin' here thinkin' bout a girl back home
If I could only, oh if I could...
Oh Atlanta, Oh Atlanta!
I said yeah! yeah! yeah! Atlanta, got to get back to you
03 Skin It Back (04:12)
Well I'm waitin' for something to take place
Something to take me away from this race
'Round city to city, town to town
Runnin' around in the shoes of a clown
And that desperate, no count, desperado
A thief of love, my business is the street
I be shakin' 'em down
In old Colorado
Texas she's nice, but Georgia's oh so sweet
Steal away with me darlin' your lovin' just can't be beat
So it seems that the world keeps on turnin' but so what
I don't doubt it, it just keeps on the move
You're a dream, and that's all that I ask for
So well now, I'm wonderin' just how I'm gonna tell it to you
Skin it back (skin it back)
Somethin' real, somethin' to feel
I can't find a soul who'll take on this mess
It's those rock and roll hours, early graves without flowers
Please, please darlin' put my mind at rest
I'm beggin' please darlin' put my mind at rest
So it seems that the world keeps on turnin' but so what
I don't doubt it, it just keeps on the move
You're a dream, and that's all that I ask for
So well now, I'm wonderin' just how I'm gonna tell it to you
Skin it back tell it to you
Skin it back tell it to you
Skin it back tell it to you
Skin it back tell it to you
05 Spanish Moon (03:06)
Well the night that was high, we got into town
Was the night that the rain, it froze on the ground
Down the street I heard such a sorrowful tune
Comin' from the place they call the Spanish Moon
Well I stepped inside, and stood by the door
While a dark-eyed girl sang, and played the guitar
Hookers, and hustlers, filled up the room
I heard about this place they call the Spanish Moon
One false step, you get done in
It's a cold situation
If that -- that don't -- kill you soon
The women will down at the Spanish Moon
I pawned my watch, and I sold my ring
Just to hear that girl singing, (hear that girl sing)
Don't take long, to wake up ruined
The women will down at the Spanish Moon
07 The Fan (04:29)
Bill Payne, Lowell George
Heard you got an infection
Just before your lewd rejection
Wait'll the shit hits the fan
You couldn't turn him down
Hold your address book above your knees
And kissed your soft legs there
He was on top of the pop stars
You couldn't turn him down
You were a sweet girl
When you were a cheerleader
But I think you're much better now
Bought a few reds from your neighbourhood dealer
And you passed out in the back of a car
You were too messed up to climb out
What if your old man had found out?
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