“Stupid”: How The Small Faces’ two biggest hits started as a joke

Although The Faces seems like an almost insignificant aspect of Ronnie Wood and Rod Stewart’s careers, their impact and appeal continue to reach far and wide. While the group emerged from the swinging sixties, they soon pioneered all the very best qualities of hard rock, oscillating between commercial appeal and a more daring, genre-blending technique.

The moment Stewart joined the rebranding of The Faces, their music transitioned from the raw and energetic 1960s rock ‘n’ roll approach to a more forward-thinking 1970s sound. Although he would enjoy a highly successful career after leaving the band, during these crucial years, he developed as an artist and accrued a reputation as one of the most important faces in rock.

These years were also marked by immense enjoyment, as is often the case when a musician enjoys their first foray into the limelight in the safe space of a band, sharing and celebrating each moment with both friends and fellow colleagues. It was a unique journey, but one that shaped who he became in the years that followed, teaching him how to trust his instincts and let the music flow freely.

As a result of this mindset, some of the songs came together effortlessly, whether seemingly materialising as an idea out of nowhere or starting as lighthearted playfulness without much intention of exploding into fully realised compositions. However, this also existed long before the inclusion of Wood and Stewart, when The Small Faces were still in their original lineup. During this time, some songs came from a place of amusement.

According to Ronnie Lane, two songs were never intended to be taken seriously: ‘Itchychoo Park’ and ‘Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake.’ While he regards the entire concept album as one brimming with the band’s signature tongue-in-cheek disposition, both songs poked fun at pivotal moments for the band, especially the former, which emerged during a time when they were pushed to break America.

Discussing the tracks with Phonograph Record in 1971, Lane discussed the pressure to go to America and the relief they felt when they decided to venture in their own direction. “There was a lot of carve-ups,” he said. “Steve [Marriott] didn’t want to come, so that blew it a couple of times. And other times it just fell through.”

He also remarked that he was “glad we didn’t come” because “it made it a lot easier for this band to come together.”

Addressing the easily misconstrued response to both tracks, he continued: “‘Itchychoo Park’ was a hit here without any sort of promotion…It was a send-up … Andrew Oldham was a great person for a bit of a grin on the side, and we used to turn out these songs with stupid lyrics just to see him laugh. Ogdens was a bit of a send-up too. People take it seriously.”

Beyond its innovative contributions to the music landscape, ‘Itchychoo Park’ carries an undeniably spirited vibe, one that playfully teases various musical tropes without fully committing to them. It’s precisely this ambiguity that makes the song so captivating, effortlessly balancing between carefree playfulness and genuine artistry.

ADD AS A PREFERRED SOURCE ON GOOGLE