Point number one – the Rolling Stones made a handful of excellent records between 1965 and 1968. Gimme Shelter is absolutely brilliant while Satisfaction, Paint It, Black, Ruby Tuesday, She’s A Rainbow, You Can’t Always Get What You Want and Sympathy For The Devil are all great (or at least have some great parts – there are only so many “whoo-whoo!”s I can take in one record). But I’m afraid there isn’t a single moment in any of them that makes me catch my breath when I hear it.
Point number two – the Rolling Stones have not released any record of consequence IN MY LIFETIME and I turn 36 in a fortnight. (The same can, of course, be said of The Beatles – though they do have the partial excuse in that they split up in 1970.) The Stones lost almost all relevance when Brian Jones left the band and their last vestiges of credibility when Mick Taylor did one. As early as March 1971 they were reliant on “daring” lyrics (eg Brown Sugar) and “risqué” record sleeves (eg Sticky Fingers) to make an impact. Despite the fact that you can now chart if your blood relatives and eight 12-year-olds buy your record, the Rolling Stones have not made the UK Top Ten since August 1981 and did so only seven times in the decade before that.
Point number three – had the Rolling Stones split up in 1973, they would be remembered now no more fondly than the likes of The Kinks or The Faces – ie as a highly influential band, loved by many and who made some great records but who are at least a rung or two below Elvis Presley (the 1955-1958 and 1968-1969 versions) and The Beatles. The fact that the Rolling Stones are revered and exalted as much as they are today is because – like Rod Stewart, The Who, Elton John and so many others of that generation – they have become an irrelevant self-parody: the public won’t have been sated by the Stones unless and until one of them dies on stage, preferably on live national television. They have attained National Treasure status simply because they drank, smoked and took drugs and are still alive.
Point number four – the Rolling Stones would not even have had a career were it not for the fact that The Beatles threw them a crumb in the shape of I Wanna Be Your Man; they remained Beatles acolytes and hangers-on until The Beatles split up. Should the supposedly greatest, rawkin’, rollin’, hard-drinkin’, hard-smokin’, R&B band in the world have been dressed in smocks and singing back up on All You Need Is Love?
Point number five – anybody who has managed to sit through Jean-Luc Godard’s 1968 film of the band in the studio, Sympathy For The Devil, without slitting their wrists and/or kicking in the television knows just what a bunch of insufferable cunts the Rolling Stones are.
Point number six – the Rolling Stones are demonstrably NOT the brilliant live act their hype machine would have us believe. They may have been when they were younger (The Stones In The Park and Get Yer Ya-Yas Out! suggest they were pretty damn good) but anybody who has seen or heard anything from their last five tours will confirm that it’s actually become rather embarrassing (eg the Stripped, No Security, Four Flicks and The Biggest Bang albums and DVDs – sit through them if you dare). When Bill Wyman is proved right, something has gone spectacularly wrong.
Point number seven – all of the above might have been fun in a cheesy kind of way, if only Mick or Keith had ever displayed any discernible sense of humour. (The only humour I’ve seen extracted from this 30+ year farce has been at the expense of the mugs who keep ponying up their hard-earned for Stones “product”.)
Point number eight – when I said they were “highly influential” I mean they’re directly responsible for The Black Crowes, Guns ‘N’ Roses and, er, Primal Scream. So they’re not highly influential at all, when I think about it again.
Point number nine – read points one to eight again.
Point number ten – the only remotely cool Stone is Charlie. And he’s a fucking drummer.
As for my supposed love of John Lennon, Mr. Baby, I shall rip you a new one later.
re point one: Brian Wilson could have kicked his shoes off after finishing Pet Sounds, opened a beer and thought “fuck it that was a good day in the office. Fuck it, that was a good LIFE in the office” and he would still be entitled to SMIP status (see my forthcoming entry entitled “splank”). But no, he carried on, seemingly determined to single-handedly ruin his own reputation.
Just because they carry on recording doesn’t mean everything’s shit. For starters, Wild Horses is lush. And if your knees don’t start bopping to the thrumming drums at the start of Paint It Black then you need a good orthopaedic surgeon to look at your entire lower half. Oh, …well you know what I mean…
re: point 2. Hot Stuff, Fool To Cry, Miss You, Start Me Up (hey, it was good enough for Bill Gates), Waiting On A Friend (lush as can be). If none of those float your boat then welcome aboard HMS Pop Titanic. Oh, and since when did “pop” music have to be popular? I didn’t realise this was the blog equivalent of “The 50 Greatest Moment of Television List Shows about the 100 Biggest Hits of the Last 10 Charts We Have Compiled”. On a serious point that would kind of fuck any arguments I have about the genius that is Ben Folds.
re point 3. They may have reached National Treasure point, but that is because they have lived the life that most of us would wish we could have a twin brother live. Most of the “Athletic Killer Kaiser Stripes” bands today owe a much greater influence to the Stones (both in the studio and live) than any other band. But that kind of undermines my argument. After all, I’d hate for them to take the rap for the current parlous state of music.
re: point 4. Whilst the Beatles broke the mould, the Stones did take it in a different direction. Let’s not forget that up until 1964 the Beatles albums were approx 50% covers. This is not a criticism (it’s more a criticism of today’s criticism of covers) but it is a fact that neither had a fully formed sound by then. But the Stones were reaching for an inherently more bluesy sound than the Beatles ever wanted to (viz tracks written by Willie Dixon and also Jimmy Reed). Apples and pears.
re: point 5. The Beatles always had an emininently sensible rule of “no girlfriends or wives on tour”. During the “Let It Be” recordings John Lennon not only brought The Cunt That Broke Up The Beatles into the studio, he moved a double bed for them in there as well. Now that is the definition of being a cunt. George Harrison walked out for a reason. And Lennon’s community minded response? “If he’s not back by Tuesday we’ll get Clapton.” When Charlie protested about a similar rule in the Stones, he just launched a dirty protest by not washing for weeks on end. Genius.
re: point six. “Flashpoint” demonstrates that as a live band they are actually tight as fuck, which is the single most important characteristic of a live band. Singing out of tune is forgiveable, just don’t spill over in to the dramatic breaks. And they don’t. Honestly it is the tightest I’ve ever heard a band since the live Trouble Funk album I’ve got where the band leader, after a few funky horn stabs, rather optimistically invites the band to hit him “forty-eight times”. And the fuckers land it all on time. Magic. (Yes I know 48 is easily divisible to 12 in 4/4 time, but would you trust a bunch of musicians to be be able to actually count all the way to 48 in a live situation, particularly when your credibility was depending on it.)
re: point seven. They recently had to cancel concert dates because the hard drinkin’, hard druggin’ Keith Richards fell of a ladder. In his library. If this doesn’t show that everyone knows the patent absurdity, nothing will. Plus Charlie Watts is the Coolest Drummer to Only Use 4 Drums. That’s one less than a standard kit. In 43 years he’s only ever used four drums. He says he knows that Mick would love him to turn up with a 15 piece modern kit, but he keeps plugging away of 4 to wind him up. Again, magic.
Point 8. They are responsible for the Athletic Kaiser Killer Stripes. OK, I concede this point. My apologies.
re point 9. I have done.
re point 10. You are right that Charlie is the cooolest and Mick can be written off (except for the fact that so many ladies do seem attracted by the Jagger Dance – how? why?). But it’s also quite cool (or is it just amusing) that after all these years Ronnie Wood is still only an employee. Charlie may only be a drummer, but when drummers are remotely cool, they are always the coolest people in any band.
re you ripping me a new one – don’t take this too seriously gorgeous. Love and snogs xxx
Re. point number two – Fool To Cry is self-indulgent, twee shite; Miss You is the same riff repeated for four minutes; and Start Me Up is only fit for use the soundtrack to a fucking advert. Next you’ll be trying to tell us that Undercover Of The Night is the best record of the 80s… As for Waiting On A Friend, I would point out that the song is actually older than both Mr. Baby and the Minister, thereby reinforcing the point I’ve been making all along, but the case for the prosecution can smugly rest after referring the jury to this piece of damning evidence: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdDfVklg7WU
Re. point number six – you’ve proved my point! You referenced Flashpoint as proof that they are a good live act: I deliberately referenced their tours after Flashpoint, after their bass player had decided enough was enough and they were beginning to look silly, and after 1990-91. What I am saying is that the Stones’ live spectacle has been an unqualified embarrassment since then.
Re. point number ten – Ron Wood became a full member of the Rolling Stones in the 1990s.
Re: points 1-10 – I feel like I have had a new one ripped already. I have no idea who influenced who, who joined what when and how much drugs they all, though I am rapidly learning. I am officially excluded from contributing further due to my colossal ignorance.
Having the bizarre tastes I do, I think Lady Jane (which I also first heard in France, whilst painting a bathroom) is a SMIP (or at least the dulcimer on it is – though on reflection I can see how one might find it ineffably pretentious if one wasn’t in the mood), but I can produce no cogent authority to back this up, let alone any kind of a persuasive argument.
I went to school with Karis Jagger, who was the product of what I assume was a liaison of sorts between Mick Jagger and the black actress Marsha Hunt, and she was delightful and very talented. So I am a bit biased.
Also, my dad reckons that the Rolling Stones were at least as big as the Beatles in the 1960s (which just means he preferred them), but then again, apart from actually having lived in the 1960s, what the fuck does he know? Those of you who know him know the answer to that.
Finally, I don’t follow the argument that because they have been shit for 40 years this disqualifies them from SMIP status. Otherwise Seve Ballesteros, Ian Botham, Jonah Lomu and anyone else who didn’t know when to retire don’t deserve any credit at all. That can’t be right. In that sense, the only argument that works is argument number 1: “I’m afraid there isn’t a single moment in any of them that makes me catch my breath when I hear it.” It’s also, coincidentally the only one of your arguments which it is impossible to contradict!