The real attraction(s) of the Little Feat reissues in recent years have been the live recordings of the band at various stages of its career, and the four-compact-disc-plus package of The Last Record Album is no exception. But the studio inclusions here are equally enticing and intoxicating on their own terms.
As with its companion pieces, concert content is released concurrently with the studio work. The Boston performance, Hellzapoppin’: Live at the Orpheum Theatre 10/31/75), was recorded just two weeks after the record’s October release, while Live At Charlton Athletic Football Ground, London, England (5/31/76), a limited-edition bonus for on-line purchasers via Rhino Records, captures the Feats seven months later to the day (on a bill with the Who no less!).
After a suspect thinness at the outset, the sonics are far clearer and present as the Massachusetts show unfolds. And, correspondingly, the roughly ninety minutes find the sextet in as boisterous a mood as the audience, the mutual warmth increasing as the concert progresses, befitting the Halloween holiday. As such, it is not so streamlined in its demonstration of camaraderie as the splendid (and rare) Electrif Lycanthrope: Live at Ultra-Sonic Studios, 1974, arguably the pinnacle of Little Feat live.
In that performance, the Feats were subliminally aware of their chemistry. Here, the band is fully conscious of it and revels in the bond with good-natured generosity of spirit. And no better example of the fraternity is Richie Hayward’s nimble playing: on “Fat Man in the Bathtub,” for instance, he sounds like two drummers tightly complementing each other.
Within the chosen setlist, Little Feat spans its entire discography, right up to and including the most recently released track, featuring the likes of “Day Or Night” right next to “Two Trains” and “Apolitical Blues.” The group thus proceeds by veritable leaps and bounds to conclude in breathless fashion via “Teenage Nervous Breakdown” and “Spanish Moon” (which hardly suffers sans the horns of subsequent tours).
The next year’s recording hardly betrays any hint of widening fissures within Little Feat, as mentioned by essayist Dennis McNally in his writing for this package. Mixed by this title’s producer Jason Jones (who’s actually overseen all the Feats archive projects), the sound emphasizes Kenny Gradney’s bass and Sam Clayton’s percussion throughout the roughly fifty minutes and, on a snippet of “Lafayette Railroad,” highlights how complementary are the guitars of George and Barrere.
There are few if any hints of how connections between the six men, once unceasingly instinctual, were becoming tenuous. The inclusion of deep Feats cuts such as “Juliette” effectively camouflages any strain so that, on “One Love Stand,” the group transcends the tentative. And while “Rock And Roll Doctor” (of all tunes!) is a touch turgid, “All That You Dream” is practically anthemic.
In terms of audio quality and otherwise, the superlative nature of the live material does not in any way diminish the listening value of the accompanying studio content. Dan Hersch and Bill Inglot’s mastering of the long player at the heart of this package itself reveals the undulations of Little Feat’s uncanny musicianship and highlights the linear logic of the eight tracks.
The conclusion of that sequence, “Mercenary Territory,” illustrates how Lowell George was by far their most expressive vocalist in the ensemble. And keyboardist/co-founder of the band, Bill Payne, in “Somebody’s Leaving” reaffirms how fleeting were the group’s nods to convention. Further such revelations on disc two arise from previously unreleased material collecting early sketches, raw demos, and alternate takes.
Subtitled Hotcakes, Outtakes, Rarities–an appellation identical to the title of the now-somewhat hard-to-find 30th anniversary box set of 2000–these dozen tracks are not retreads of that content, but insights into the mechanics of Little Feat as individuals and a unit. For instance, George’s “Down Below The Borderline” suggests he could get a rhythm machine to syncopate, while Barrere’s “High Roller”–which would appear on the following studio effort Time Loves A Hero–reaffirms how the creative axis of the band was shifting.
Such is the theme McNally emphasizes ever-so-subtly in his insightful prose within the twenty-page booklet. The historian and author’s arch expressions manifest an attitude not altogether dissimilar to the eccentric band’s (particularly in many of their posed photos next to the text). At the same time, an air of bemused detachment also permeates the imagery adorning the front cover of The Last Record Album: through the eyes of Little Feat’s longtime visual artist, Neon Park, Los Angeles is a surreal oasis.
The packaging of this vault set is certainly the most handsome of the lot, dating back to 2022. it’s fatuous to quibble about whether the content on the first two discs might’ve been consolidated into one because such a configuration would thereby negate the necessity for two double inserts into the main slipcase; this design allows the room to print lyrics to the songs, thereby confirming the group’s songwriters’ command of language was as quirky as the unit’s grasp of layered rhythms.
From that perspective, as much as the music, this latest Little Feat archival collection comprehensively captures the group at the peak of its powers, ultimately begging the question of whether there is such a thing as too much Little Feat.
