For the second reconstituted Pie effort Marriott seemed like he was in better physical shape, yet the whole thing ended much like the original run – crashing and burning. However, it is a bit cover reliant, starting from the first track, “All Shook Up”, then later cribbing a couple of songs from Aerosmith associate Richard Supa (“Restless Blood” and “Chip Away the Stone”) which end up sounding far too generic on this record. Furthermore, in an attempt to trade past glories for future gains, they trot out Marriott’s own “Tin Soldier” from way back in the Small Faces’ days! It gets better, or worse, or just plain stranger, depending on your point of view. “Driver” is a really goofy “La Grange” knock off, of all things. What is disappointing is there are some good tracks here – “Teenage Anxiety”, the title track, and especially “Lottie and the Charcoal Queen” are experiences that could have fit in with earlier Pie records, IMHO. There is something in the moods and textures of these three tracks in particular, which makes me wonder if Marriott and Shirley were not thinking about “going for the throat”, but crying out for help instead. I’m pretty sure, during the initial run of the band, neither of those guys would have green-lit such a cover as the one that grossly adorns this one, but something tells they did not have much of a say or there were not many moves left to play. There is also an even worse shot inside the liner notes, of the rest of the group feigning putting Marriott in a choke-hold, but the sad thing is, it’s perfectly indicative of how cheap and rough-shod the whole Humble Pie enterprise really had become.

Steve Marriott's solo effort is similar to Humble Pie's last album from its original run, in that it is a jumble of tracks borrowed and/or rehashed from different projects from the general period. If you are really interested in this stuff I point all newcomers to the late 90's compilation The Scrubbers Sessions. That said, Marriott the album has some intriguing content, but was regarded as an afterthought in the wake of label mate (and former band member) Peter Frampton's then-runaway success. Divided into a British and American side, the material is over-the-top even by Marriott standards, and there seemed to have been a concerted attempt to put him over as a marketable white soul musician, going by the material on the slicker, more Cosmopolitan sounding American side. The first (British) side is definitely more familiar to Humble Pie fans, but a few tunes into it, Steve runs out of gas, resorting to a lackluster version of "Wham Bam, Thank You Ma'am" to close things out.

Now, Ridley, Clempson, and certainly not Peter Frampton would concern themselves with attempting to revive an old, broken-down hulk like Humble Pie. This time around, only Marriott and Jerry Shirley would be participating, along with Bobby Tench and Anthony “Sooty” Jones. It’s pretty easy to take both albums and throw them into the same basic bar-boogie bargain bin, but then again, isn’t that what the critics have done to the Pie for years, in general? I can agree neither album matches up to the classic super group lineup output, but there is a big reason for that, and it has nothing to do with the new additions with Tench or Jones. The saddest development here is Marriott and his hard-living drug and alcohol demons finally catching up to him. Vocally, mentally, performance-wise – all the way around you could tell this guy was aging far faster thanks to the hard living he had done up to this point in his life. When I first heard this one my hopes were up hearing the initial track, “Fool for a Pretty Face”, which honestly is one of the better singles from Steve and the Pie in a long time. I was really young at the time so I do not remember the exact circumstances, but the song scraped the edges of the Top 40, I think. Getting back to the album, though, the band follows up this tour-de-force with…” You Soppy Pratt” …which on the one hand, shows off the old Marriott spunk, but on the other hand, you cannot get over the feeling that the act is long beyond tired. Overall, the impression I got here was a group of guys half-heartedly trying a bunch of different things to see if they work or not. For example, there is a reggae song here (“Savin’ It”), which I do not have a problem with, but it’s pleasantly sloppy and more like a drunken sing-along gig.

The 70’s were a time when artists and bands entered into often-onerous deals, given mere months or even weeks between album releases (never mind recording sessions), and when those were not taking place they had to go out on tour, where incidentally, their real money was made. The story goes that the band’s record label got tired of waiting for the one last album which would theoretically end their run, and so they hired Andrew Loog Oldham to cobble together a coherent document out of material taken from sessions recorded at Marriott’s home studio. Most likely none of this was meant for a Humble Pie album, but it was marketed and promoted as such. The band got together and toured behind it, then split when the tour ended. Ironically, calling in Oldham to salvage the material had to had been an extra kick in the pants for Marriott, who had been extricated by his then-current management from a huge mess that was partly thanks to Oldham’s mismanagement back in the Pie’s early days, and now he was being thrown back into another, even weirder mess with Oldham’s name attached to it. The album itself is a joke. It sounds like outtake, demo-level material which should have never been released. There are three Beatles covers here which pretty bad, and maybe placed here out of self-sabotage. First, let’s start with the production values, which highlight the point above about demo-level material. Not that it doesn’t sound surface-decent, but even a person not in the business can tell more care has to be put in the product before it was ready for mass consumption. Just inexcusable. Then the songs themselves – well, a few of them have flickers of the old Humble Pie fire, like the cover of “Let Me Be Your Lovemaker” and “Street Rat”. But all too often, the band sounds tired and just wants to give up. Hell, “Road Hog” is about that very topic, and it’s depressing to listen to. The absolute nadir has to be the ballad rendition of “Drive My Car”, where they waste Ridley’s vocal talents on a real boneheaded idea which only people fueled by large amounts of cocaine use would think works. It is simply inexcusable. In sum, Street Rats was just a crap way for the group to go out, but one also got the feeling they ultimately called the final self-inflicted wounds.

And not so gradually, the wheels started to fall off. This was the “going through the motions” album. Except that the cover art was beautifully done, and tons of money was spent on the band to go through the motions to record this album. The funny thing is, when you peek inside the liner notes, you get the true meaning of what a “thunderbox” really is, because here are two naked women staring you in the face, about to go to the toilet! Ah, only in the 70’s…. Marriott and crew have not completely given up the ghost but it is clear, they are now on the tail end of their journey. The album is listed as being recorded at “Olics Sound, somewhere east of Guatemala”, and more than half of the 12 tracks are covers now. Additionally, the Humble Pie originals are all co-writes with one or more of the band members being involved, even though Marriott is listed as the sole producer. So, as one could probably tell, even before the Street Rats debacle, it could be argued the Pie was out of gas at the time of recording this album. Still, that did not prevent them from giving their all on quite a few tracks here and there. For example…. The title track – IMHO – is awesome, although quite indicative of the pickle the group now found themselves in. Subject matter-wise, it is frivolous, although if you think about it, the group was ahead of the curve in one respect – they recorded a catchy-as-hell ode to the women’s posterior, only about 20 years too early. “Thunderbox” is dirty, nasty, dripping with sex appeal, and probably containing about two or three STD’s doctors had not identified up to that point. It is also extremely self-referential – at least from Marriott’s point of view – even though Clempson, of all people, is jointly credited as well. If this song got a re-release in the early 90’s it would blow those wimpy Black Crowes off the charts. As it is, I fondly remember it as one of the high points of this record. Too bad it is the only original track from the group that stands out here. Where they shine is on the cover tunes, for the most part. Ann Peebles’ “I Can’t Stand the Rain” is given the show-tune treatment, presumably to highlight Steve’s vocals, which despite all of his self-abuse is a wise choice. This is followed by a gentle, soft rock-ish take on “Anna (Go to Him)” which is still rough and raw thanks to Marriott’s raspy vocal, but still, quite nice. Ridley’s only lead vocal is a near show-stealer, on “Drift Away”. They make this track sound more like Ian Hunter-era Mott the Hoople, curiously enough. Finally, the cover of “Ninety-Nine Pounds” is another classic take on R&B from this era of Humble Pie – slick and thick! That is the good material. As far as the rest of the lot goes – well, let’s take “Rally with Ali”, for instance, which is nothing more than a basic groove, Steve Marriott talking a bunch of disconnected shit related to Muhammad Ali, followed by the rest of the band chanting “Rally with Ali” every so often. As with the title track, it’s also indicative of the album in general – this was a group running itself ragged, as by this time they were working on multiple recording projects as well as touring without any rest to speak of. Tracks five through seven – “No Way”, the aforementioned “Rally with Ali”, and “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” – sound indistinguishable from each other, and it does not feel accidental. My take here is that a good half of an album was an accomplishment, considering the difficulties.