The late, great Ian McLagan’s CV read like a veritable who’s who of rock’n’roll. He first came to prominence in the mid-60s as one quarter of quintessential mod outfit the Small Faces, prior to which his Muleskinners backed both Howlin’ Wolf and Sonny Boy Williamson. In the early 70s, he teamed up with Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood in The Faces. He’s since shared stages and studios with the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Chuck Berry, Bonnie Raitt, the Everly Brothers, Georgia Satellites, Melissa Etheridge, Bruce Springsteen and Billy Bragg. In 2008, McLagan – who passed away in 2014 – sat down to share his recollections of just a handful of his collaborators and confidants.
Howlin’ Wolf
Hubert Sumlin and Howlin’ Wolf came to England in December ’64 to do a tour and my first band The Muleskinners, had the absolute honour of playing three gigs with them. One afternoon he came down to watch us rehearse. He walked in the door, just an immense man in a long greatcoat, came over to say hello, put his arms around the whole band at once, and boomed ‘My boys!’ People say that Wolf was a frightening man to know. He wasn’t at all. He was intimidating on-stage to the audience, that was part of his persona, but he was the warmest, sweetest guy.
Roy Orbison
What a character. What a great singer. He was very quiet. I had some tragedy in my life, but that guy had a lot. I can’t even fucking imagine, but what a sweet-natured, lovely man. He was fantastic; his band were a bunch of characters too. On the last night of the tour we did in ’67 they handed him his guitar and they’d tuned it up two semitones and you know how high he used to sing. He started the first song and in between verses he turned around and said: ‘You bastards!’
Keith Moon
I don’t miss him. His mum is a dear friend of mine and I hate to say anything bad about him, because I loved Keith and I grew not to love him quite so much because of how he treated Kim [Moon’s ex, subsequently McLagan‘s wife]. Then when Kim left him – I didn’t steal her away, she left him – when we got together he was pretty mean to me and we’d been very close friends. So I said, well, fuck him.
But I’d loved him. We were pals. It’s difficult because of Kim. Anyway, Kim and I had 33 years together. Mandy is my daughter and has been since she was seven… she doesn’t even know him. I’m dad, you know. He was never a dad to her. It’s not his fault, he was ill. I think he was schizophrenic. I’m not a doctor, but I saw many sides of him in half an hour. If that’s not a split personality, I don’t know what is. He was definitely an alcoholic. A great drummer and a very funny man. If you weren’t his wife he was lovely.
Steve Marriott
Sadly missed and sadly misguided in his latter years. We were very pissed off with him when he left The Small Faces to do Humble Pie. Ronnie (Lane, Small Faces bassist) lost more than I did because they wrote together, but I had no money. Me, my first wife Sandy and our young son moved into a little flat for eight guineas a week, I got some old carpet out of a skip, and I was doing the place up. Kenney (Jones, drummer) would help, and funnily enough, Peter Frampton would come around too. We got working on a song, Growing Closer, and he asked me if I’d join Humble Pie. He and I got on very well together, and Steve was still feeling a bit guilty, so I went down to rehearse with them. Greg Ridley didn’t want me to join, and I didn’t like the songs, so I never went back.
When we got The Small Faces back together in ’76, Steve took us for a couple of hundred thousand pounds. As a band we didn’t have any debts, but Steve had a manager (Dee Anthony) and a label (A&M) that he owed money to. So when we got the advance – we got a quarter of a million pounds from Atlantic [sniggers] stupid bastards; those were the days – about £200,000 of that went to pay off Dee and A&M. So we went, ‘Thanks a fucking lot, Steve’. Maybe that’s what he was thinking all along. But it wasn’t fun. I didn’t enjoy it. Then he left for America and I never spoke to him again. A couple of days before he died I was given his number, I should have called him. It was a tragic death, but he lived a long life for the short time he was here.
Keith Richards
I love Keith, or as I call him: Keep Rigid. We had a few drinks at Ronnie (Wood)’s daughter Leah’s wedding. That accident he had when he fell out of the tree, he was sitting up there, went to climb out of it, got caught on something and fell on his head. He was fine until the next day when he went out on a jet ski. The vibrations brought it to a head and he had to be rushed to hospital. He called me when Kim died. Woody and Charlie called me. Everyone’s been wonderful, but Keith was lovely. When my band opened for the Stones last year, I had a half hour with him in his dressing room, and we had a little cuddle. He was very sympathetic, very sweet. And he’s one of the funniest men on the planet.
Mick Jagger
I wasn’t as close to Mick as I was to Keith, Charlie or Bill. Mick is a very complex character. Keith’s classic line to describe Mick’s personality is: ‘It depends whoever she is today, dear’ He is very mercurial, but he has been very sweet to me at different times. Mick is very business-like. You think Keith knows where he’s playing in two days’ time? Mick’s been to the venues, he knows the name of the promoters, knows how many tickets have been sold. It’s all part of his deal; that’s what he does. He’s also a brilliant singer and songwriter. That last Stones album, that’s Mick’s best album: songwriting, playing-wise, he’s come on so much, and the singing on that is unbelievable. There are so many nuances to his voice, I look to him as one of the great singers, Rod’s a great singer too, but not as varied as Mick. One thing they do have in common is that they are both children onstage: they don’t care how they look. They care about their image sure, but they’ll roll about, jump around, anything for the moment.
Ronnie Wood
Ronnie would if he could and unfortunately, he often does. Ronnie’s my brother. I love him dearly and if we don’t see each other for six months or a year, it makes no difference. The moment we’re back together, we’re having a laugh. His daughter’s wedding earlier this year was fabulous. I left at 7.30am, I was dancing for hours. Someone sent me a photo from the reception that I’ve got on my PC desktop of Kenney (Jones), Woody, Mick (Jagger), me, Keith, Jeff Beck and Bill Wyman. We’re all smiling and happy, amazed that we’re all still alive… and we’ve all got hair!
Towser. Uncle Pete. I have a very soft spot for Pete and always have. I first met him and Mitch Mitchell at Jim Marshall’s drum shop before Jim Marshall made amps, in Hanwell because we all lived out that way. This tall, big-nosed geezer came up to me and said “What band are you in then?” It was at a time when we were all striving to do something, and I saw him play in The High Numbers and The Detours. His band and The Muleskinners both went for the same audition for a club in Twickenham and they won, and they should have. He was great even back then, he was doing different stuff with his guitar. He was doing the mike stand across the neck and everything. Keith wasn’t in the band then, but they got the gig, he later told me they only played one gig and it closed down.
Brian Eptsein
Only met him the once. We shared an orange and some acid. That’s why (Small Faces’ manager) Don Arden held Robert Stigwood over a balcony, because he heard someone was trying to take over our management and assumed it was Stigwood. Epstein was only hanging out to take acid. Whether he thought one of The Small Faces was gay, I don’t know, but he certainly didn’t make any approaches and we had a very pleasant evening.
Bob Dylan
I love Bob. There’s nobody better. He’s still writing amazing stuff. Nobody comes near. We had a party the night before the gig when we recorded The Faces’ live Overture And Beginners album and during the course of the night, Peter Grant went up to him and said: ‘Hello Bob, I manage Led Zeppelin’ and Bob Dylan said, ‘I don’t come to you with my problems’.
Rod Stewart
Me and Rod haven’t been close for years, but I love him. He’s my brother; all my bandmates are my brothers. It’s what you do; you form a brotherhood. But recently me and Rod have formed a more secure friendship which is good, and I hope augers well for a Faces reunion. Fingers crossed… we’re talking at least. My standard abiding memory of Rod is whenever you walked into a bar with him, he always opened and held the door for you, and you’d think, ‘what a gentleman’, and then you find yourself at the bar ordering a drink. The four of us thought we were a band before Rod joined. Woody and Ronnie Lane were going to sing a bit, as was I, but when Rod came down, Kenney brought him into the room and as soon as he started singing it all made sense. Suddenly you realised you were in a really good band. Before we were just four guys writing some songs, it was all a bit iffy, but from that moment I knew we had a great band.
Originally published in Classic Rock issue 125, October 2008
