Rod stewart biography book

I had the privilege of seeing Rod Stewart in-person 2+ times, once in August 1975 in the last days of the Faces and once in 1979 solo. (The + is because at a 1975 Led Zeppelin concert, Ronnie Wood came out for the encore – “the newest member of the Rolling Stone” – to jam and at the end, Rod Stewart was physically carried out to wave; I was in no condition to tell you what they played and he was in no condition to stand, let alone sing, so I guess it was a draw.) Whether these two performances can be considered concerts or just shows is debatable, just as whether this book is all that good is really a matter of opinion. Rod has been called “the laziest man in rock” because it feels like he does the bare minimum; there’s a lot of show and performance but it all feels a little sloppy, kind of frat house stuff, and while it’s entertaining, you can wonder where the passion and sweat are. His idols from soul and blues left it all on the stage because their audiences wouldn’t accept less but these shows felt more like Vegas or supper club stuff. Which brings me to the book.

Rod also has the reputation of being one of the nicest and down-to-earth guys you could meet., which I can easily believe because there’s not a bad word about anyone here, not even the publicist he fired who then went on to invent one of the great rock legends – or rock myths – to revenge himself upon Rod. (For those not up on the story, which I heard MANY times with only slight variations in details, Rod allegedly went to a bikers’ bar and “serviced” every customer there, on his knees, after which he had to have his stomach pumped; the quantity of “material” which had to be pumped was usually about a gallon in most of the stories I heard and anyone with even the vaguest idea of how many bikers would be needed to produce a gallon would see through the story but critical thought is not always a strong point here.) The most Rod said was that the publicist was very good at his job.

A huge middle part of the book is dedicated to the two protuberances on the front of his body, meaning his sexual and cocaine exploits, with names named, and how he could have maintained some of the relations with some of the world’s most beautiful women if he hadn’t been a slave to the lower one and how he almost lost his voice forever due to stuffing white powder in the upper one. As for the latter, he insists he wasn’t an addict, it was just part of the lifestyle, and as for the second… as he sings, “some guys have all the luck, some guys do nothing but complain.” There are a lot of crocodile tears here about he just COULDN’T stay faithful with all these beautiful women constantly forcing themselves on him. As a university professor, this has been less problematic for me and as a red-blooded hetero male, this could be my first case of ”penis envy” – but it isn’t. I hate whining from people who have it all but don’t appreciate it. He’s an excellent entertaainer but a better whiner than singer, and these parts really call for violins and hearts bleeding. He doesn’t blame the women for his broken marriages and relationships, he laments being and absent father (and when he is present, it seems to be all fun and games with the kids, nothing about the work involved in single motherhood.) If this had taken up a couple of chapters, fine, but it was at least 50-60% of the book and the fact that he feels bad about it doesn’t mitigate the number of pages he spends on it.

So, that’s it for me. If you just want a good time, on the page or at the show, Rod’s your man. If you’re looking for something a little less fluffy, he ain’t. I still love the incredible run of albums he had from the early to late 70’s, but starting with “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?”, almost everything just seemed like something to cash in on. This book felt to me like one more. (P.S. Rod: I got this book via an illegal download. Sorry. Cash in elsewhere.)