The Small Faces' Decca Singles: A Tale of Artistic Rebellion and Enduring Legacy
There’s something undeniably captivating about revisiting the early days of a band that would go on to shape the sound of an era. The Small Faces, with their Decca Singles from 1965-1967, offer more than just a collection of songs—they provide a window into the struggles, triumphs, and raw energy of a group fighting for artistic control. Personally, I think what makes this period so fascinating is how it encapsulates the tension between commercial expectations and creative ambition. It’s a story that feels timeless, yet uniquely tied to the mod-infused, R&B-driven landscape of 1960s Britain.
The Band, the Manager, and the Battle for Identity
One thing that immediately stands out is the dynamic between the Small Faces and their manager, Don Arden. Arden’s decision to house the band in a posh London neighborhood was, in his mind, a way to keep them focused and under his thumb. But if you take a step back and think about it, this move only fueled their rebellious spirit. The 1966 black-and-white photo of the band on Westmore Terrace isn’t just a snapshot—it’s a statement. Dressed to the nines, exuding unbridled energy, they’re practically daring the world to underestimate them.
What many people don’t realize is how much of their early success was a compromise. Tracks like Whatcha Gonna Do About It and I Got Mine showcased their raw talent, but when the latter failed to chart, Arden pushed them toward more commercial fare like Sha-La-La-La Lee. From my perspective, this tension between artistry and marketability is where the real drama lies. It’s not just about the music—it’s about the band’s fight to be taken seriously as creators, not just performers.
Masterpieces and Missteps: The Decca Era
All Or Nothing, their first No. 1 hit, is a masterpiece that still resonates today. But what this really suggests is that even at their peak, the band was grappling with external pressures. My Mind’s Eye, another chart success, became a point of contention when Arden released a demo without Steve Marriott’s approval. This raises a deeper question: How much of their legacy was shaped by decisions they didn’t fully endorse?
The band’s eventual split from Arden and Decca was inevitable, but the fallout was messy. The unauthorized release of I Can’t Make It and Patterns highlights the darker side of the music industry. Here’s a detail that I find especially interesting: Patterns, with Ronnie Lane on lead vocals, features one of the craziest B-sides of the era, E Too D. It’s a reminder that even in their most chaotic moments, the Small Faces never lost their edge.
Kenney Jones and the Legacy That Lives On
Hats off to Kenney Jones, the last surviving member of the band, for his tireless efforts to keep their legacy alive. The limited-edition vinyl release of the Decca Singles isn’t just a collector’s item—it’s a labor of love. The inclusion of rare Dutch picture sleeves and a 16-page booklet filled with archival material feels like a treasure trove for fans. Personally, I think this release is more than a nostalgia trip; it’s a testament to the band’s enduring influence.
Broader Implications: The Artist vs. the Machine
If you take a step back and think about it, the Small Faces’ story is a microcosm of a larger struggle in the music industry. Artists have always battled for control over their work, and the Decca era is a prime example of this tension. What makes this particularly fascinating is how relevant it still feels today. In an age where streaming platforms and labels often dictate creative direction, the Small Faces’ fight for autonomy feels like a precursor to modern debates about artistic freedom.
Final Thoughts: Why This Matters
The Decca Singles 1965-1967 aren’t just a collection of songs—they’re a snapshot of a band at a crossroads. In my opinion, what makes this period so compelling is its raw, unfiltered energy. It’s a reminder that even in the face of adversity, true artistry can’t be suppressed. As I reflect on their journey, I’m struck by how much their story resonates with anyone who’s ever fought to be heard. The Small Faces may have been a product of their time, but their spirit? That’s timeless.
