There is nothing ironic about Rod Stewart, and for that, I love him. The pure, frivolous joy of watching Rod Stewart and the women who love him delight in “getting down with their bad selves” (Rod’s words, not mine) was a refreshing change from the jaded, cynical rock that marks the popular music of our generation. Everyone – from the moms-gone-wild waving the “I LOVE U SINCE 1972” sign to the young couple sipping from their flasks to my right – had a smile on their face. The real surprise, though, was how Stewart hooked the younger crowd as well. And his infamous ass? Tell your mom that he’s still got it. When Stewart got winded – or just wanted to try on a new pair of skinny jeans – he turned over the show to long solo jams by his capable band of musicians, featuring a hot-panted saxophone player and a go-go-booted trio of backup singers called the “Rodettes.” Throughout, Rod’s gravelly voice was surprisingly strong. With two hour-long sets, an encore, and too many costume changes to count, Rod breezed through such hits as “Tonight I’m Yours,” “Hot Legs,” and The Faces’ “Ooh La La,” though his kicks were a little slowed and his gyrations more forced. Rod also had his fair share of male admirers – from dutiful husbands who warmed up after being dragged in, to one man who wagged a bouquet at Rod through all of “Infatuation” until Rod, silk shirt clinging to his chest for dear life, bent down to receive it. It’s on the Internet.īut from the moment Rod stepped onto the giant circular stage Friday night – with his frosty hair, cheeky grin and only a moderate amount of bloat – he transported his aging audience back to a time when people had to do more than just make the Internet gossip rounds to be famous they had to, as The Rodfather made clear, “captivate a whole generation of women with big hair and an eye for a cute butt.” And judging from the amount of squeals, swoons and floral arrangements directed his way last weekend, it seems that even women with downsized hair and bifocals still see a lot of sexy shimmying beneath Rod’s gold lame jacket. You remember Kimberly Stewart – she’s the Hilton look-alike who’s said to have gotten giant breast implants, removed them, autographed them, and sent them to Jack Osbourne, who now displays the silicone heeby-jeebies on his bathroom wall. Many youngsters, unfortunately, are more likely to know Rod as father to socialite and Paris Hilton on-again-off-again-BFF, Kimberly Stewart. Stewart, unlike generation-crossing contemporaries like Dylan and the Stones, is firmly stamped with the stigma of “parent-rock.” Though the Stewart-fronted band The Faces still counts some fans among the college set (thanks in no small part to Wes Anderson), Stewart’s solo stylings on easy listening hits (Van Morrison’s “Have I Told You Lately”) and wacky ego-jams (“Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?”) have failed to catch on with even the most ironic of 20-something music snobs. Our generation, however, doesn’t exactly think of Rod Stewart as the ass-kicking type. In fact, according to the video that introduced his two-and-a-half hour set – a little mock-short dubbed “The Rodfather” – not only is Rod still kicking he’s “kickin’ ass.”
But to the 10,000 screaming over-the-hill women inside the Verizon Center last Friday night, Stewart’s boyish charm is still very much alive and kicking. As is it is known as one of the band’s greatest hits, Stewart included and recorded it in his Greatest Hits album.It’s been nearly 40 years since Rod Stewart first shook his British booty into America’s hearts (and loins) with his breakthrough single, the infamous older-woman love lament “Maggie Mae.” Rod Stewart is 62 now, and Maggie’s probably dead. On the group’s last studio album, Ooh La La, functioned as a musical promotion, therefore, it did not chart. Although Ronnie and Rod were at the odds of the time of the recording, experiencing the passing of his old friend seems to overcome the past obstacles that occurred with this song.
Featuring the Corrs, a popular Irish rock band, Rod does the ballad justice back in ’98.
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