"YOU know," said Ian McLagan, and you could tell another name was about to land, "Noel Gallagher said on the back of my book, he said, 'Ian McLagan's a jammy b******, he got to be in two great bands'. Well, he was wrong. I got to be in three!"
I
ndeed – although it must be said that being the keyboard player for the Small Faces and then the Faces is what makes "Mac" such an important figure in the history of rock, and not his present career as frontman of the Austin, Texas-based Bump Band.
It was the oldest of the oldies who made an impression here, although not so much as the obviously keen fan who kept requesting Small Faces tracks, to McLagan's irritation. Finally forced to point out he wouldn't be doing All or Nothing, the crowd seemed almost disappointed to be left with largely Mac's own songs.
In truth, though, the sense of sad deflation in the air wasn't worthy of a man who defined the Hammond organ sound of British rock in the 1960s, and who has seen ex-bandmates Steve Marriott and Ronnie Lane, and his own wife, Kim, pass away at tragically young ages over the last two decades.
Some of his tunes were noisy pub-rockers, but the smiling, silver-haired McLagan is an old-fashioned entertainer, and his throaty voice is best suited to mimicking Rod Stewart rather than Marriott. So You're So Rude and Cindy Incidentally each contained an unexpected fire that set the spine tingling – and did you know that Glad and Sorry was one of Paul Weller's favourites?
The full article contains 286 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
