Faces: Early Steps

Released somewhat under the radar in the fall of 2025, Early Steps is the missing link in the chain of archiving projects within the vault of the now-defunct British band Faces. 

Its content discovered by late band member Ian McLagan while researching the essential box set Five Guys Walk Into A Bar (Rhino, 2004), this compendium joins the anthology Stay With Me (Rhino, 2012), the collection of full-length albums (plus a disc of outtakes, rarities, etc.) You Can Make Me Dance, Sing or Anything 1970-1975 (Rhino, 2015) and The Complete BBC Concert & Session Recordings 1970-1973 (Rhino, 2024) to virtually complete the timeline of a group arguably never so popular in the heyday of its existence as it is now.

Studio recordings by none other than Glyn Johns align with those captured by McLagan during the band's time in the Rolling Stones' rehearsal space the summer of that same momentous year. From that latter location are two tracks that appeared previously, yet the nods to blues roots in the forms of "Feel So Good" and "Evil" do not significantly undermine the value of this already rare (on vinyl) collection, in part because "Train" is a previously-unreleased Faces song (albeit, not a particularly memorable one).

The aforementioned Johns, he of studio collaborations with The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who and Eagles—and indeed the Small Faces as forerunners of the Stewart-Wood axis—was never given production credits on a Faces LP until he shared it with the band on A Nod Is Good As A Wink (Warner Bros., 1971), but the first half of Early Steps suggests he deserved it. 

Not only are the rough mixes of "Shake, Shudder Shiver" and "Devotion" full and clear sonically, but the whole band sounds confident of itself in both the raunchy and the honestly sentimental tunes. There is a palpable sense of the quintet's instrumental roots extending past superficial comparisons to the Rolling Stones all the way to vintage Booker T & the MG's. 

And for his part, 'Rod the Mod' sings hard, as if he means the words to "Flying" as much as any lyric he delivered on behalf of the Jeff Beck Group or his earliest solo efforts, like Gasoline Alley (Mercury, 1970). Implausible as it may sound—unless the reader is aware of a younger Stewart's stage fright in the earliest of his days with El Becko—'The Mod' did not fully participate in all the originally impromptu but increasingly formal sessions restored and remastered by Nick Robbins from September 1969 Olympic recordings. 

Although the decidedly rougher mono mix in the latter half of these 47-some minutes might suggest priority placement in the track list, the half dozen cuts follow their counterparts chronologically. The pervasively unselfconscious air warrants the label 'rehearsals,' but the fivesome sound altogether purposeful in working through the multiplicity of ideas at their disposal.

Faces' songwriting prowess, such as it is, goes on display for the instrumental "Pineapple and the Monkey," where guitarist Ronnie Wood and keyboardist McLagan play off each other with no little fire, the flinty likes of which correspond to the earth tones of the front cover color photo). A more extensive demonstration arrives in the (welcome) repeat of "Devotion," set off in great relief by its immediate predecessor "Stone."  A rootsy original cut from the Faces' debut First Step (Warner Bros., 1970), the latter highlights not only bassist Ronnie Lane's lead vocal, but also Wood's facile slide work: its nimble accuracy validates the eight-minute plus duration of the number.

To be sure, most of Early Steps is glorious noise and, as such, it is a well-paced LP on its own terms. But hearing and more importantly feeling its punchy, visceral immediacy—Kenney Jones' drums are almost a lead instrument—some half-century after it was recorded certainly adds legitimacy to the growing acclaim accorded the work of Faces. 

In the enclosed 16-page booklet, reissue producer Rob Caiger contributes a winning essay where his astute insight(s) are juxtaposed with photos and replications of memorabilia. And while the 5-by-5-foot square dimensions of Early Faces on CD may make it difficult to physically fit into some physical banks of music, that odd size only reflects the singular nature of the content within the slim-line gatefold sleeve.

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