'They don't make artists like us any more - Amazing no one thought I was Gay. Born on the road': Rod Stewart
Ronnie Wood, wayward kids, lawless streets and the problem with pop stars today - as Rod Stewart prepares to sail home to spend more time with his £100m bank balance, he's determined to get one or two things off his chest...
'If you get to 65 and you don't try to get your life in order, God help you,' said Rod Stewart
Rod Stewart has a bad dose of flu. As a fully paid-up member of the A-list Hollywood elite, he’d be entitled to cancel everything and check into a five-star clinic.
But this is Rod. Son of a Leith-born master builder, ex-gravedigger, top-selling artist for four decades, world-class ladies’ man. He’s not going anywhere.
He’s sitting in the centre of a suitably luxurious London hotel suite, straight-backed, alert and smiling, dressed in a gold-buttoned navy blazer, a pristine white shirt and Ralph Lauren trousers. In an era where many of his counterparts appear scarily like their own Dorian Gray portraits in the flesh, he looks exactly like the Rod Stewart you see on album covers.
At 65, the hedgehog hair is as thick and bristly as it was 40 years ago. (‘I’ve hung on to the barnet. My secret? Vary the shampoo all the time. Wash every other day. Dry upside down with a hairdryer – that tip came from some girl in Chicago, and she was right.’) He’s also retained the angular jaw and the knowing twinkle in the eyes that miss absolutely nothing. The flu doesn’t stand a chance. The man is on top form.
There’s a bottle of vintage wine chilling in a silver ice bucket and a red-and-black football on a desk. That’s always been Stewart’s thing, the juxtaposition of camp rock-star excesses with working-class tartan testosterone. It’s the way he is. It’s how the same man could write Hot Legs and The Killing of Georgie and Maggie May. How the man many will forever remember for leopard skin, peroxide and Ă¼ber-glamorous SWAGs (Stewart wives and girlfriends) can now sell millions of albums of stunningly produced and exquisitely performed popular standards.
‘I’ve done it all,’ he laughs with that sandpaper rasp. ‘I cringe a bit about what I used to wear. Ladies’ knickers, ballerina tights, the leotard things with one nipple hanging out and a feather boa round the middle. Amazing no one thought I was gay, but then I was a big womaniser. Everyone knew it. That’s how I got away with it.’
Stewart is excellent company. He effortlessly combines the aura of glitzy superstardom with the manner of the bloke down the pub, shooting the breeze. Stewart likes a chat
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/moslive/article-1322199/Rod-Stewart-touring-performing-The-X-Factor.html#ixzz13JG573sn
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