Second time around, and this record - lovingly nicknamed the "Red Album", by the way - really does not give a fuck what you think of it, one way or another. It spills forth Schacher's brutal bass lead, Brewer's dunka-dunk drums, revels in Farner's poison-feedbacked guitar and squelching vocals and lyrics, and there you go! GRAND FUNK!!! Only eight tracks here - anymore would be blasphemy - like the debut, of the smoke'em if you got'em variety. The shorter ones - which still feel mammoth, by the way - are crammed at the start, to give this one the appearance of friendly commercialism, when really that is a pant load. The hammer is laid down on the freakin' anvil on the second half, when no track runs less than 6 and a half minutes, and the listener gets the full-bore idea of what this band is all about. "Got This Thing on the Move" feels like the lighter version of "T.N.U.C." in a lot of respects, actually, and a decent way to christen the affair. In the very least, you know what you are in for, so just strap in your seatbelts….Too bad the next few tracks, while gregarious, bring us back to that first album "will they or won't they let loose" void. Only when they hit the ending groove of "Mr. Limousine Driver" do you get an indication of what is to transpire. But the next three tracks are where GFR hits its' stride - "In Need", "Winter and My Soul", and "Paranoid" - the latter track garnering comparisons to the Black Sabbath single of the same name, but they are rather dissimilar. The GFR version is all stretched and fuzzed out to hell and back, running for nearly eight minutes, conjuring up images of unseen figures hiding behind doors waiting to pounce upon unsuspecting, innocent folks. One other thing to note is how these three tracks slowly descend mood-wise - from the relatively "happy" jam of "In Need" (where you hear Mark's constant "yeahs" and "ooohs" in the background during his guitar solo) to the vague and pastoral "Winter and My Soul" to the rather dark "Paranoid". It's a nice setup for the grand finale - a cover of The Animals "Inside-Looking-Out", which the 'Railroad turns into their own personal torture chamber of a jam, firmly establishing themselves as the power trio of the moment, through and through. If it's not technical skill they can rely on, then it's pure guts, glory, intangibles, and the zeitgeist of the era they drilled into, channeling the emotion into this one monster wave of a track. Putting all the rising emotion aside, well…then again, this is the RED album, and you can't put that aside and properly hope to begin to judge this one. One thing was for certain - the tide that brought these guys in would have to be dealt with, one way or another. Like it or not, this is the most interesting studio album of the early years.

A sloppy time of a live record filled with mostly covers and medleys of orginal material. Not really necessary unless you a fan, but it's fun to hear once in a while. The only record with Tetsu Yamauchi on bass.

Along with Stewart's 1971 solo album, here was the document that broke him and the Faces worldwide. "Stay With Me" is up there with the best of the best as far as 70s R&B/rock tunes go. But there's nothing here that was not done already on the first two records, either.

When Steve Mariott split from the Small Faces to form Humble Pie, what was left of the group (Ian McLagan, Ronnie Lane, and Kenney Jones) joined forces with Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood for a new venture, and became the Faces. From there, they proceeded to record four of the most unassuming, beguiling, down-to-earth rock releases of all time, along with one so-so live album. Out of the four studio records, this is the one that sounds most like a late-period Small Faces album, so it's clear the Small Faces part of the group were running the show. The good thing was, how seamlessly Stewart and Wood fit into the Marriott role and in some cases, kicked things up a notch ("Flying"), while Lane was given room for his ever-burgeoning contributions ("Stone", "Devotion"). This was and is a highly underrated record.

It's hard to have anything but mixed emotions listening to Easy Action, also known as that album sandwiched between the ACB band's debut, and Love It To The Death which everyone considers to be their real debut. Which is natural, but Easy Action has its merits, of the off-beat variety. Nine fairly crazy songs that were simply in need of some direction and belief, but without it, the band was in danger of feeling like rebels without a cause. Not even their own producer (David Briggs) cared at this point, referring to the music as "Psychedelic Shit" (according to drummer Neal Smith), but amongst the confusion there are flashes of geniune horror, like the rampaging "Kingdom of the Spiders".