I once went to a party in a scout hut for someone’s 18th birthday. There was a disco, of sorts; and then Rod Stewart’s Maggie May came on. Instantly the place erupted, and at least half a dozen strapping blokes more suited to the great outdoors started marching up and down the hall in random patterns, clutching invisible microphone stands. They cleared the floor; people dived for cover. It was a bizarre sight, but testimony to the hold that blokeish, football-loving Stewart had at that time over lads who felt compelled to ape their idol.
What is it about that song? A mood of end-of-summer rueful regret, mingled with rite of passage reminiscence? It came out, with his version of Tim Hardin’s Reason to Believe as a double A-side, in September 1971; I had just broken up with a girl who was admittedly nothing like woman-of-the-world Maggie. But “you made a first-class fool out of me” – well, I kidded myself that rang true, at the time.
Or is it the swirling organ, or melancholy mandolin, that keeps you hanging on towards the end? There was also the matey comradeship with Ronnie Wood, Ronnie Lane, Ian McLagan and Kenney Jones of the Faces, the footballs and scarves, and glorious, ramshackle live appearances that appealed to a lot of blokes my age. (Catch the late John Peel miming with a mandolin on this Top of the Pops clip, by the way.)
Rod was always sound on old girlfriends. There was the equally poignant and affectionate You Wear It Well, a year after Maggie May, and almost as big a hit; and an excellent cover of Bob Dylan’s Mama, You Been on My Mind in the same vein.
And he had paid his dues. After a brief time with Brentford FC, he had busked around Europe, and played with Long John Baldry’s Hoochie Coochie Men, Steampacket, whose members included Brian Auger and Julie Driscoll, a band called Shotgun Express, which also featured Mick Fleetwood and Peter Green, and the Jeff Beck Group. He had even – very briefly – been a member of the Kinks in a pre-fame lineup.
So where did it all go wrong? A few years after Maggie May, Rod parted company with the Faces, moved to America, and moved in with Britt Ekland. I can’t remember in which order; it’s not important. Somewhere along the line, while making that Atlantic crossing, a little bit of soul was sold in pursuit of the great American dream. Sure, he became one of the bestselling artists of all time. But I don’t remember any of the Venture Scouts doing an imitation of Do Ya Think I’m Sexy. I think that says it all.
