True story. A month ago, LAUNCH sat a group of Strokes fans down and played what I told them was new material from the New Yorkers. They sat entranced, tapping their expensive trainers, stroking their weak chins, as twin guitars tore through a tight backbeat. They were impressed. One of them was even bright enough to notice a Johnny Marr riff from an early Smiths single – or so he thought. In fact, they were listening to extracts from Status Quo’s 1973 “Hello” LP.
Status Quo – the three ages of a rock band. Psychedelic popsters in the late 60s with their “Pictures of Matchstick Men” and Steve Marriott haircuts; 70s no-nonsense be-denimed young rock gods with their grubby plimsols and their “Caroline”; now chummy, hard working 50-year-olds – like Jeremy Clarkson…with Telecasters.
Most bands would have been proud to have had any one of those three stabs at a career. Rossi and Parfitt, plus assorted rhythm sections and the writing of Bob Young, have had the lot. These days, Rossi prefers the pipe and slippers Quo that naps after soundchecks and plays country rock. Parfitt and the ‘new boys’ still prefer the sleeker model – early to mid-70s when in “Piledriver”, “Hello” and “Quo” the band recorded three of the greatest English rock LPs of all time.
Listen to the wrist-aching riffery of “Paper Plane”, the overloaded boogie pop of “Don’t Waste My Time” or the instrumental mini-opera that is “Forty Five Hundred Times” and challenge this band's importance. Even the mighty “Rain” and the bonkers “Mystery Song” from 1976’s “Blue For You” more than stand the test of time.
Then, inevitably, it went pear shaped. Sure there were still moments – their version of John Foggerty’s “Rockin’ All Over The World” was a perfect start to Live Aid in ’85 – eight years after its release - and showed they still had fuel in the tank, but with an eye on the budget, a drive for hits which lead to the abomination that is “In The Army Now” - written by a couple of Dutchmen - and Rossi’s desire to explore another Quo, many younger fans fell away and hitched themselves to the new wave wagon instead.
Quo continued. They released regular ‘greatest hits’ and decent ‘live’ collections along with increasingly erratic studio sets, and unapologetically joined their millionaire chums by playing the apartheid resort that was Sun City. Those releases kept them in the charts and enabled them to continue their annual cash-cow tour – coming to a city near you soon. And good luck to them.
Quo’s 60s catalogue has now been predictably ‘rediscovered’ and lauded by the rock monthlies, but it’s those 70s selections here that will surprise anyone willing to try the ‘Strokes test'. The rest of it you can keep – Wurthers Old Originals for the grandchildren to choke on.
