Tag Archives: ogdens’ nut gone flake

#760: Small Faces – Long Agos and Worlds Apart

‘Long Agos and Worlds Apart’ is the third track from Small Faces’ 1968 album Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake. For anyone who’s a fan of that album and regularly visits it, this track may not seem as important or substantial as the other tracks that appear alongside it on the record’s first half. Maybe seen as merely a link between predecessor ‘Afterglow of Your Love’ and following track ‘Rene’. It’s always stuck out to me as a highlight though. The track has a swinging rhythm, I get nothing but good feelings when it comes on, and it was written by keyboardist Ian McLagan who, on top of singing, also plays rhythm guitar and bass guitar here.

‘Long Agos’ is a track to do with time and relationships. McLagan sings that he doesn’t want to know about the distant past where this person wasn’t in his life, but if he had all the time in the world then he wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else. It seems to me like a very earnest and sincere track, very optimistic from its perspective. In the final verse, McLagan then looks to the future where he’s certain that this person will still be in his life and they’ll be able to reminisce about the good old days when they were younger. And on that note, the drums come in and the band members join in with a chant of ‘hip-hip’ and ‘doowaddy-waddy’. There’s a lengthy fade-out to the track followed by a gradual surprise fade-in – which seemed to be a standard production trick in the 60s – where Steve Marriott closes out the track with a guitar solo and McLagan keeps things rolling with a chugging bassline. Sure, the main vocals in the track are finished about halfway through the track but a long instrumental outro is always good to have once in a while.

Unfortunately, this will be the last time I write about Small Faces on here. I have no other songs after this one to write about. If the times were aligned correctly, there would have been two more posts about ‘Afterglow’ and ‘The Hungry Intruder’. Do listen to the group though, they were one of the best of their kind in the 60s. Sadly, three of the members of their classic lineup have passed away. But their music goes on.

#717: Small Faces – Lazy Sunday

Small Faces didn’t want ‘Lazy Sunday’ to be released as a single. Recorded during the making of Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake, the song was recorded as a bit of a pisstake inspired by Steve Marriott’s experiences with his neighbours who were always telling him to turn the music down. The label didn’t care and sent it out for promotion anyway. It did well, it got to number two in the charts, but the band wanted to be taken seriously and the Cockney ‘Knees Up Mother Brown’ style of the song didn’t help.

Despite the band’s indifference towards the song, there is no reason why nobody should dislike it. Marriott’s hammed up East End vocals for the majority of the track could annoy someone I guess, but as a whole the music is completely infectious with sweet melodies and a strong bouncy rhythm to boot. The four members were all quite young while recording Nut Gone Flake – drummer Kenney Jones was only 19 when they started sessions – but the group were still able to make very clever music for their ages while maintaining a less than serious approach to their songwriting. This track has that method of working down to a T.

They made the music video at Jones’ parents house. There are times when they look like they’re having a good time though sometimes they do look a bit embarrassed by it all. Either way, it’s a great watch.

My iPod #485: Small Faces – HappyDaysToyTown

Ogdens’ Nut Gone Flake would be the last album the English rock band Small Faces released during their original stint from 1965-1969. It utilises different styles from bass-heavy psychedelia to full-on hard rock, but it is the second half of the album that separates it from many, many other albums out there. On top of providing the listener with six unrelated, memorable songs the following six are based on a fairy-tale on a boy named Happiness Stan, who goes on a journey to find out where the other half of the moon has gone after seeing only the other half of it during the night. You think I’m making this up? It has to be heard to be believed.

“HappyDaysToyTown” concludes the story, as well as the whole album, with a good ol’ Cockney knees-up about the meaning of life. Sung by both lead singer Steve Marriott and bassist Ronnie Lane, the track teaches us that “life is just a bowl of all-bran” and to generally enjoy every moment you have in this world as best you can. Have a sing, a dance, and give a happy-days-toy-town-newspaper smile. What does that mean? It means a lot actually, despite the nonsensical phrasing.

And with that ended one of the most unusual albums to come from the 60s, as well as one of the most influential mod and psychedelic acts of the time too. They would (kinda) reform in the 70s, but no one talks about that so much. Good song.