Can a song help chart your life?

Rod Stewart's "Every Picture Tells A Story" did just that for me

Finding just the right song to open an album can be a challenge. Bruce Springsteen found himself a perfect opener with “Thunder Road” for his epic album “Born To Run.” His title song leads off Side Two. The Band found a most unusual, mournful way to open to begin their “Music From Big Pink” with their somber take on Bob Dylan’s “Tears Of Rage.” What ended up becoming their signature song, “The Weight” ended up closing Side One. The Who’s “Baba O’Riley” was the perfect opener to the wildness and clamor of “Who’s Next.” Their classic song “Won’t Get Fooled Again” was actually the first song they recorded for that record. But they knew it made for a perfect finale.

Rod Stewart’s “Every Picture Tells A Story,” the title track from the smash 1971 album that launched him into superstardom, might be an even better and more all-encompassing album opener. For Rod’s thrilling, shambolic, picturesque romp through life —pinned to a driving, relentless beat— not only gave us a breathless,] imaginative tour of the globe through his eyes; one replete with love, travel, drama, sex, battles with authority, the song also carried with it the rumbling undertow of someone fascinated by the twists and turns of life.

It also just happened to map out the actual future career path for this rooster-haired, raspy-voiced scamp from North London. It was a forecast, a vision of his future, his destiny, you might say.

And if you listened closely, underneath the actual words and music of this dynamic, relentless, rip-snortin’ opener, there was a subliminal message: “Do you see what I’m getting away with? You can, too.” It was nice to hear that. Especially back then.

For an insecure, not-all-that-great-athlete, not-all-that-accomplished a high school student stranded out in Brookline, New Hampshire with no car, no girlfriend — not even a date! — about to graduate with no particular future plans other than maybe taking some college classes so I didn’t have to work full-time, Rod’s album opener was an across-the-bow message that promised the unpredictability, the wonderful surprises that life, yes, your life, might have in store — if you were willing to get out there, like Rod did and really live.

For me, the timing of this album in my life was perfect. I was a senior, Rod’s record hit like a thunderbolt, and I played it non-stop up in my room. My parents called me “the kid upstairs” when I was home because that’s where I was. It was my space, let me be.

Half the attic of our small New Hampshire ranch was my bedroom and it was spartan. An unfinished set of stairs (“Reb” the would-be carpenter, told my Dad he needed the rest of the money to finish the stairs in advance “for his son’s operation.” Dad paid him, we never saw Reb again so the stairs were unfinished.)

In my room, plain plywood floors, gray sheet rock on the beams of the roof, a small bookcase on one side of the room, a poster of Bob Dylan staring down at you (The cover of “New Morning) over my bed and a poster of Rod Stewart, the fold-out cover of “Every Picture Tells A Story,” stapled to the sheet rock. There was a small record player on the bookcase that either had the album or the hit single “Maggie May” on it much of the time.

Say, let’s listen to that opener one more time: “Every Picture Tells A Story.” Play it again, Rod.

A 12-string guitar — not an electric! — (so this is something different) opens with a brief, 16-second guitar figure, sort of an intro. Then a dramatic two-second silence, as if everyone is gathering strength for the journey ahead, the cymbals crash, the drums kick in and Stewart’s voice jumps out at you…“Spent some time feeling inferior,” he sings, “standing in front of my mirror. Combed my hair in a thousand ways but I came out looking just the same…”

What teenager couldn’t relate to that?

“Daddy said ‘Son you better see the world. I wouldn’t blame ya if ya wanted to leave…so I got out!”

Graduation approaches. Dad gets me a part-time job at a Nashua grocery store, down the street from Rivier College. And so, as in the song, Rod is off on his life as I was on mine, daily hitchhiking to my Catholic girls’ school, where I was the one male in just about every class. Me, who hadn’t had a date yet.

“Spent some time feeling inferior?” Well, uh, yeah, now that you mention it.

Rod’s exuberant, inspired vocal takes off — it’s like he’s already delighted by the life he’s lived so far, not even knowing stardom is ahead — his song is punctuated by perfectly timed “whoops” of excitement throughout, to drive the song onward. As Rod’s voice and the hard-charging music carries me across these stages of his life, I’m all ears. I’m with him.

Spurred on the insistent, relentless drumming of Mick Waller and the surging 12-string riffs of Ron Wood, some tasteful electric guitar riffs tossed in at the choruses, the song has this unstoppable, genuine momentum. Rod is leading his life, telling us about it, nothing’s going to stop him. Rod tries Paris…

“Paris was a place you could hide away if you felt you didn’t fit in.”

Uh, huh. I can relate there, too. Nuns speaking French. Why am I blushing when Sister calls on me?

Where next, Rod?

“Down in Rome I wasn’t getting none of the things that keep a young man alive.”

Gotcha. Had my first date. Set up by my sister.

“Getting desperate, indeed I was, looking like a tourist attraction.”

Ha! “Sister, is that a man on our campus?”

Then I hear Rod’s next line; remember, when I first hear this, I’m attending a Catholic girls school.

“Oh my dear, I’d better get out of here. ‘Cause the Vatican don’t give no sanction. I wasn’t ready for that, no, no.”

Not ready for that either, you know. Not on a second date.

The song charges along and our Rod finds love on the Peking Ferry… (There’s hope for me!)

“She took me up on deck and bit my neck. Ohhh people I was glad I found her. Honest, I was glad I found her, whooo, whooo”

Rod’s delight, his joy comes across, we’re all rooting for him now. Just as at Rivier, some teachers were rooting for me. (One still is.) Some probably weren’t. But I was learning.

Then, about halfway through the song — 3:36 to be precise — everything stops; a pause, a revelation, even a confession! Attention, all Catholics!

Brilliantly, Rod enlists the perfectly matched jagged voice of Maggie Bell to double his on this key verse. He’s learned something and wants to share it with us…

“I firmly believed that I, didn’t need anyone but me. I sincerely thought I was so complete. Look how wrong you can be.”

Hmmm. That gets a kid, nestled in classroom after classroom full of young Catholic girls every day, thinking. Maybe there IS someone for me…

Rod continues, bursting with joy. …

“God, I was so glad I found her.” The music explodes and Ronnie Wood, as excited as everybody else, can’t help himself and lets out a “Hey!” But Rod, on a roll, is undeterred…

“And if they had the words I could to tell to you, to help you on the way down the road. I couldn’t quote you no Dickens, Shelley or Keats. ‘Cause it’s all been said before. Make the best out of a bad joke and laugh it off. You didn’t have to come here any way. So remember, every picture tells a story…”

As the song’s closing vamp begins, other voices chime in, and it sounds like the whole studio is singing along. As the song and tempo rises for the final minute or so, Pete Sears’ tinkling piano kicks in, as everyone continues to repeat the song’s title. In the middle of this rising hullabaloo, Rod cuts loose with the first of five, perfectly timed, absolutely thrilling “whoooo’s!” So you end up counting on every one to carry your song, your and Rod’s journey, to a gently faded conclusion. What an opener.

When you finish “Every Picture Tells A Story” right now — or like I did so often back then, up in my lonesome, mostly unfinished bedroom — you feel like it’s taken you somewhere. Or maybe pointed you a way to go.

So…you do what Rod said. And go.

P.S.: Mercury Records had no idea this album would be this big. “Maggie May” originally intended as a B-side after almost not making the album, is the first song to be No. 1 in the U.S. and England at the same time. Not anticipating that, the folks at Mercury only took out two ads, one written by Rod himself:

“Like all great art, great wine, great craft, and great sex, Rod Stewart’s third album took a long time in coming….”