Rod Stewart
It Had To Be You

PREMISE

I believe that my last review (Unplugged - Rod Stewart) reached the lowest point of comments among the De-Baserian reviews (4). Now, five hypotheses open up:

1-the review was so horrid that no one finished it
2-the review was readable but lacked material for comments
3-the review was so well done that it left no room for comments
4-nobody cared about that album
5-Rod Stewart is no longer of interest to anyone

Without a precise answer in mind, I decided to delve deeper into the Rod Stewart topic to investigate, among the five options, at least the last two...

IT HAD TO BE YOU – THE GREAT AMERICAN SONGBOOK

If I had to give a title to these lines, I would title them “the marks of time” for at least two reasons: first, the songs contained in this Rod Stewart album are classics that have left marks over time and are representatives of an era both near and far;
second, this album further highlights the marks of time on a man like Rod, who in this Songbook appears, for various reasons, a bit battered.

The first signs of time are seen in the delay with which an old fox like Rod Stewart, historically accustomed to riding the first waves of “new” commercial trends, arrived three or four years late to Swing, which was already showing signs of life in the late 1990s and regained ground at the turn of the millennium, thanks to some acclaimed commercial releases (Robbie Williams with - maybe - Sing when you're winning or something like that) and was covered by various greats of both national (Arbore) and international (Midler, Ferry, etc.) song scenes.
Upon the anticipated release of this album, I was very curious to see a flamboyant character like Rod Stewart put himself on the line with a different genre, yet one for which he has always thinly veiled a certain passion. Rod has always liked himself as a crooner, dabbling from the beginnings in observing and recounting the now-famous “smoky suburban venues,” and we remember how years ago he built part of the Waits home park in exchange for a couple of masterpieces to reinterpret.
Unfortunately, however, this American Songbook is a bland replay of some great classics of post-war and Sinatrian America (The way you look tonight, These foolish things, The nearness of you, You go to my head) through a different yet unimpressive module, far from the original Swing of those tracks and close to something vaguely Jazzy, used precisely to better adapt the songs to the historically rock voice of a rocker.
The result, at least to my ears, wasn't great, the songs are stripped of their pleasant swinging rhythm, and Rod of his rocker, brash, Latin-lover energy. The songs are performed perfectly, the atmosphere is refined, everything is all too glossy and aseptic. The final effect is that you fall asleep peacefully after about ten minutes, questioning the fact that... “yet I liked them…?!”

In short, despite its fair commercial success, the album is a small misstep in Stewart's golden career. In my personal and debatable opinion, it would have been better to hear the usual voice rasp with more freedom, perhaps creating questionable yet original versions of these 1950s standards.
But perhaps Rod, as is his style, wanted to combine the useful with the enjoyable in these Songbooks, reconciling commercial demands with a voice that probably isn't what it used to be and struggles to still hold certain raucous rock pieces. The album, as it is, can only appeal to those who endorse some form of idolatry toward Stewart himself, but not to those who loved Rod's previous works, as they will find none of what they're looking for, nor to genre enthusiasts who will harbor reservations about these not-so-excellent re-reinterpretations.
Bitterly, in a society of appearances and not of being, the Stewartian work managed to achieve sizable earnings, and precisely in light of the successful results, Rod scraped together another 3 Songbooks, which record after record, in the continual repetition of the same module, increasingly heightened my sense of boredom, with the mere addition of some peccable duets (including a “laughable” one with the reclusive Alessandro Safina from Music Farm) sufficient to keep the entire editorial project afloat.

After this load of classics, following the latest and unconvincing Pop-Soul detours (Human), as far as I'm concerned, Rod is deferred until September. The 2 is an average between the great esteem I have for that man and his recent sonic flops. May Rod return to playing football, get his breath back, and come back with a real Rock album, that's his only chance… even without a voice, we'll appreciate the effort!