Published on Jun 28, 1999
The first time I ever heard of Little Feat was courtesy of the
Van Halen single “Black And Blue”, which featured a b-side of the
band covering “A Apolitical Blues”. (Somewhere, I still have that
45.) Once I discovered which band originally recorded the song, I
made the pilgrimage to the used record store to try and locate
anything by Little Feat. That day, all they had was their 1971
debut album, but that was fine for me, as I headed home with my new
toy.
But when I put the record on my stereo, I quickly snapped back
into reality. What the hell
was this noise that I was listening to, and why didn’t it
sound anything like the raucous, raunchy blues that I had heard Van
Halen covering? To the shelves of the Pierce Memorial Archive it
went, never to be touched again for about 10 years. (I later took
another chance with Little Feat, and was pleasantly surprised.)
After about ten years removed from this record, you’d think that
my opinion of
Little Feat would change. If it has, it hasn’t changed much.
This record shows little of the brilliance that Lowell George and
crew had, and set the pace for the band’s career, which would
feature many musical highs and lows.
Originally, Little Feat started life as a four-piece, with
George on guitar and vocals, Bill Payne on keyboards and vocals,
Richie Hayward on drums and former Mothers Of Invention member Roy
Estrada on bass. Celebrated guest musicians on
Little Feat include appearances by Ry Cooder and Sneaky
Pete.
From the sound of the lineup, you’d think that you’d be in for a
different sort of musical treat. And, well, it’s
different, no question about that. I think the first thing
that struck me about this album was that the verses often featured
lines that didn’t rhyme, something that I hadn’t grown to
appreciate yet. (I was only about 17 when I first bought this
album, and my palate still had a long way to go towards maturity.)
Today, the lack of rhymes doesn’t bother me.
What does bother me about
Little Feat is the poor songwriting that abounds throughout
the album. The first song that gets my attention doesn’t come until
well into the first side, with “Truck Stop Girl” – and,
unfortunately, it turned out to be the only song I really liked. An
early version of “Willing”, a song that was to become a Little Feat
classic, is heard here, but it sounds rushed and out of focus.
George and crew would get it right when they reprised this song one
album later, on
Sailin’ Shoes, providing a more laid-back, harmony
vocal-encased version. This one sounds like a half-assed demo.
While I’m not complaining about the overall musicianship of
Little Feat, many of the songs sound like demos that were never
really meant for public consumption. “Hamburger Midnight” is one
such track, a song that could have been turned into a grit-coated
classic had there been more work applied on the overall song. Other
tracks like “Takin’ My Time,” “Snakes On Everything,” “Crazy
Captain Gunboat Willie” and “Strawberry Flats” all just fail to
inspire the listener.
Granted, Little Feat is the kind of band that you have to
acquire a taste for. But even after a decade of owning
Little Feat, I cannot listen to it and begin to find the
point which suggests that this band was capable of so much more.
Maybe there’s a slight hint of it in “Truck Stop Girl,” but any
hopes one had are quickly squashed like so many bugs on the
interstate.
Little Feat is an album that should be approached with
extreme caution. If you’re a die-hard fan who absolutely has to
hear how the band got its start, then pick it up. But if you, like
me, wanted to find the inspiration behind the songs, this isn’t the
place to start, ’cause it may cause you to lose hope of ever
picking up the trail.