Kenney Jones: Right Place, Right Time

Among all the iconic drummers of the late 60s- early 70’s era (i.e., Keith Moon, John Bonham, Ginger Baker, Charlie and Ringo), few can tout the success of a musician’s- musician named Kenney Jones. Not an everyday name in the history books of R&R, but Jones was a member of three highly successful bands (Small Faces, The Faces & The Who), played as a session man for many famed artists, and seemed to always be in the right place at the right time.

Like many of his contemporaries, Jones was born and raised in the East End of London, with parents who fought in the war and survived the many bombings of his neighborhood. Early in his life, he knew he was not the studious type and dropped out of school early, with the purpose of being a professional drummer. He said he always knew his life would be part of the music scene.

Young Kenney (with an extra “e” that he added at 16 to differentiate himself from the other five “Ken Jones” at his music publishing agency) sat in with local bands playing at establishments that didn’t realize he was underage. At one of his favorite pub haunts, he would often befriend Stan, the bartender, for coverage. One night, Stan made a comment to him about his playing. “That was great! Are you in a band?” he asked Kenney. “No, I want to. I am going to form one.” The barman nodded and said, “My brother’s a guitarist, learning just like you. His name is Ronnie Lane.”

It was the right place, right time for Jones. Soon Lane would hook up with Kenney, switch to bass once discovering singer/guitarist Steve Marriott. By November ’65, they’d add Ian “Mac” McLagan on keys. Signed by big-time London agent Don Arden, they took Swinging London by storm as The Small Faces. The name was an observation made by one of the band members’ girlfriends. It was her view that they all possessed “small faces.” It stuck.

The band developed a cult-like following of mostly young girls attracted to their good looks. This rubbed the guys the wrong way, as they took their creativity seriously. They began spreading their wings as songwriters, experimenting with different sounds and styles.

Jones would be the band’s workhorse. While in between Small Faces shows, he took on extra session work, building musical friendships across the London scene. Kenney was sought after, not just for his ability to play any style, but for his other talent: his affable personality. He had an ability to make strong connections with others around him, have a good laugh, and allow others to get close to him. This paid dividends throughout his career.

With Kenney’s unwavering campaign to have the Small Faces escape their “pop band” persona, they embarked on psychedelic sounds in August of 1967 with their international single “Itchycoo Park.” It reached # 1 in Canada, # 2 in Australia, and # 3 in the UK (the single was never released in the USA….they mistakenly took a strategy NOT to enter the American market).

Along with their lauded 1968 album Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake, the Small Faces were hitting their creative peak just at the time they began to crumble within.

This was the period when Steve Marriott began a musical relationship with a relatively unknown upstart named Peter Frampton. Soon, Marriott would put his bandmates on notice that he felt that the Small Faces had peaked. He intended to leave the band in January of 1969 for a supergroup with Frampton (Humble Pie). Jones and the others knew he was right regarding their creative stagnation, but were stunned by his disloyalty and arrogance.

Kenney counted on his networking to find a solution. He encouraged the remaining band members to continue to rehearse together while they figured out what they would do next. While jamming at the Rolling Stones’ rehearsal hall, Ronnie Wood, who at this point was a journeyman guitarist for several London bands (including Jeff Beck’s band), would stop in and join with the three remaining Small Faces. He began to bring with him his skinny, raspy friend Rod Stewart, who would sing and talk music with the band.

After several weeks, no one had the gumption to ask Rod why he was coming around… except Kenney. Jones later recalled, “All of the time, I was looking over at Rod and wondering. – ‘Rod, come on, give us a shot!” So, at their favorite pub one afternoon in the summer of 1969, Kenney asked Rod Stewart two important questions: “Fancy a quiet drink, Rod? … Stewart answered affirmatively. “Rod, do you fancy joining the band?” ‘Shit, yeah!’” Right place-right time.

The only conflict was that Rod had recently signed a solo deal.  He continued to work independently while fulfilling his membership in the band they were now calling The Faces. Two years later, The Faces found themselves booked in stadium-sized gigs. Rod’s solo hit “Maggie May” worked as the centerpiece of the show, while his solo effort Every Picture Tells a Story would be released in May of 1971. It featured, in part, all members of The Faces with Kenney’s big drums on “I’m Losing You” as the album’s stand-out.

The Faces would be a top band for the next 3-4 years, until Rod’s solo career propelled him to leave. Ronnie Wood joined the Rolling Stones in June 1975. The Faces were done by December.

But Jones’s ability to be part of the fabric of the music scene wouldn’t slow down. Kenney had heard his friend Keith Moon’s solo version of the Beach Boys’ “Don’t Worry Baby.” This sparked a discussion with producer Mentor Williams (brother of songwriter Paul Williams) about a potential solo album for himself. “He knew the level of my (signing) talent and offered to help,” Jones shared. “He said to me, ‘Everyone can sign Kenney’, I said, ‘Yes, but not necessarily well, Mentor.”

Things got interesting when Jones bumped into Paul McCartney as he started the solo project. He asked if Paul would consider playing on the record. His response: “Love to.” With Linda by his side, Paul laid down bass for “Baby Blue Eyes.” Jones’s memory of the tune’s outcome was “Yuck!” The project was quickly dumped. “Paul still asks to this day when the song is going to be released.”

Meanwhile, by 1974, Keith Moon was giving The Who fits with his out-of-control behavior and poor drumming. Pete Townshend had a lot riding on the soundtrack for the movie version of Tommy and called his pal Kenney to help. Pete said, “Keith’s out of it, so we’re looking for other drummers. You interested?” Once again, right place, right time.

Jones did an outstanding job playing on several tracks of that collection and laid some concrete for the unseen future of his relationship with The Who. When Keith Moon died unexpectedly in September of 1978, the only drummer Townshend considered for his replacement was Kenney Jones. “Look, you’ve got to join. We’ve come through the ranks together.” Pete said when pitching Jones on considering joining one of the biggest bands in the world. “You’re one of us!”

-Steven Valvano

Photo: Kenney Jones 2007 (Graham Holliday via Wikimedia Commons)