THROUGH THE PAST, TENSE

It seems impossible to remember the 60’s without remembering Dylan, the Beatles, and the Rolling Stones. For some reason—incredible success?—the three will dominate our memories of that decade’s music forever, or at least until I finish this article.

While the Beatles remain the only mega-successful group to bring their career as a group to a logical end, Dylan and the Stones go on. And on. And on. Ol' Zim still falls on his face regularly, but the Stones have evolved into a well-oiled machine. Sometime during the 70’s, hot rock became haute rocke and the Stones were exposed as human beings, and pretty fallible ones at that.

Fortunately, ’twas not always so, and therein lies the story. The 60’s was the decade of the Stones’ best music. This is not particularly unusual: the Who, the Kinks, and a host of others fall into the same category. What made the Stones interesting was that from their inception—and throughout the decade—they were the only group able to take on the Beatles mono a mano and emerge relatively unscathed. If the Beatles buried them sales-wise (and they did), the Stones still produced a remarkable stream of albums with timeless appeal. If Lennon/McCartney were more prolific, innately talented songwriters than Jagger/Richard (and they were), the embryonic Glimmer Twins developed into first-class tunesmiths for their own band—a development that is probably without parallel. And if the Beatles forever changed the public’s awareness of pop music, the Stones capitalized on the New Babylon more adeptly than anyone, including the individual Beatles.

This latter point is particularly ironic, considering how quickly and completely the Beatles captured the American market. As “England’s Newest Hitmakers” (a phrase that could have been more correctly applied to Herman’s Hermits, among others), the Stones could’ve scarcely been less appealing on these shores. Lacking the John/ Paul magic, they relied heavily on cover tunes—but covers that few bands would’ve even dreamed of: “Mona," “Down The Road Apiece,” "I’m A King Bee.” Jagger’s ability to sound so black was no small help here; imagine McCartney singing “King Bee.”

Finding the songwriting knack— as well as becoming almost as wellknown as individuals as the Beatles—pushed the Stones into their eventual niche. As the 60’s ran out the Beatles broke up, the Stones could quite correctly bill themselves as “the greatest fucking rock ’n’ roll band in the world.” But. like most artists, they were unable to repeat their past success (forget that they made zillions since then, I’m talking about the music). To be sure, Exile On Main Street wasn’t exactly tripe, but the hectic, uncertain days of ridiculous success (i.e., “Satisfaction”) and ridiculous failure (i.e., Satanic Majesties) were well behind them.

Herein follows an album-by-album account of those (much simpler) days, an era that saw the group progress from The Rolling Stones to The Stones. The LPs referred. to are the American versions; as usual, the fast-buck artists managed to squeeze out more product per tune Stateside than elsewhere.

England’s Newest HitmakersThe Rolling Stones (1964): They don’t look exactly comfortable on the cover (obligatory suits & ties), but this is some kinda debut album. The (yuk, yuk) “Hit” on the LP, “Not Fade Away," has been released in the States two months prior to the album’s release, and had elicited a general yawn. It was clear that these guys weren’t gearfabmersey, anyway, making a straightforward statement by covering “I Just WantToMake LoveTo You," “Can I Get A Witness." and the incredible “I’m A King Bee." Evidently, when the Rolling Stones touched you inside they really felt happy!

The timid tunesmith only placed two originals on the disc, “Now I’ve Got A Witness” (an instrumental credited to the ubiquitous Phelege), and “Tell Me (You're Comirjg Back”), a damned good sloppy moaner that signaled the beginning of the early Jagger/Richard credo. Noticable in its absence is the flip side of “Not Fade Away,” a harmless little rocker called “I Wanna Be Your Man.” It’s reasonable to guess that it took the Stones a long time to live that one down.

In any case, these Rolling Stones sure looked tb be an uncompromising bunch if only by their passion for R&B. Seventeen years later, it’s still just as listenable, though—in fact, it s likely that only the Doors put out a better first album. England’s Newest Hitmaker ho-hummed its way through the Beatle-crazed charts then, but there’s no good reason you shouldn’t own it now. Tell me it’s unfair.

12X5 (1964): A “made for America" album—the British got The Rolling Stones **2 instead, and never even saw The Rolling Stones. Now! — 12X5 is distinguished by many early Jagger/Richard offerings, as the roll began in earnest.

“1 ime Is On My Side" previously released as a 45. is included, as well as “Empty Heart,” “Good Times. Bad Times," and early misogynist aesthetic on “Grown Up All Wrong." All cool stuff, especially the vocal interplay on “Empty Heart."

Among the cover material, it’s doubtful that anyone’s ever laid down a better version of “Around And Around," which nowadays seems easier to remember as a Stones’ tune than a Chuck Berry dishrag. “If You Need Me” showed a soulful edge to Jagger’s vocals that was never to be fully developed as the material edged more to pop or blues in the future.

After 12X5 it was quite clear that the Stones were as distinctive a band as the Beatles: perhaps even more i so with the boys finding their songwriting legs. Another no-big-deal sales-wise, though, so too bad for them. Actually, 12X5 is slightly better than the first Stones album, which is always a healthy sign—no fast fade for these guys.

What else? Oh yeah, they do “Suzie Q” better than anybody else, too. And the title of the album refers to the decade, you clue-seekers. Pretty cute, huh?

The Rolling Stones, Now!

(1965): Filler from #2, various . British EPs and random studio cuts didn’t hurt this album. The R&B cover days were ending with this disc, and the mind-boggling choice of really good obscure stuff is exceeded only by the Stones’ virtuousity in performing the same. Rooster," but that’s only because 99% of their American audience didn't know the difference between a song and a toothpaste commercial. Of the original stuff, the alwayslistenable “Heart Of Stone” led the pack, further soildifying Jagger’s toughguy pose. The bouncy “Off The Hook" isn’t too far behind either.

It’s almost certain that 99% of their American audience had never even heard “Down Home Girl,” "Mona, “Down The Road Apiece," and the ominous “Little Red

For some reason, this is my favorite of the first three albums, although I can’t really say why. It’s sloppy, it’s arrogant, it’s demanding... jeez, it almost sounds like an editor!

Ah well, pick up on it Now! to remember the Stones as they were forged...Jagger and Richard were preparing hit toons that would bring them into the Beatles’ sphere, and things would never be the same again.

Out Of Our Heads (1965); Coming out five months after The Rolling Stones. Out Of Our Heads must’ve caused a lot of shaking of other heads. No more of this ancient •American folk music; the Stones had found pop (and probably money therein) and had, quite incidentally, also written “The Last Time” and “Satisfaction.” Their appearance on this album probably didn’t hurt sales, not even a little bit.

To be blunt, any album with “Satisfaction” would’ve sold tons, but the new,' popped-up Stones delivered the goods pretty much all over Out Of Our Heads. “The Under Assistant West Coast Promotion Man” is probably still the funniest description of record biz donothings, particularly during the talking fade. “Play With Fire” and “The Spider And The Fly" showed the Stones’ increasing (musical) philosophy that women are either stuck-up bitches or just plain stupid—but in either case, needing the Stones (or Jagger) moreso than vice versa. And I do mean vice.

The cover tunes, in keeping with their newly-discovered accessibility, are stuff people could pretty much remember, like “Hitch Hike” and “Good Times.” By this time, though, it seemed practically impossible for the Stones to do a lousy cover of anything. (Of course, they’d never tried “Memories Are Made Of This.”)

An often-overlooked curio on Out Of Our Heads is “One More Try,” which may be the only Jagger/Richard composition with out-and-out optimism seeping all over the turntable. Also of note: Stones earnestly making a stab at most LPs in a row with black covers.

'December’s Children (1965): Jesus, bands put out albums fast back in those days. This one (their third of the year) wag issued just four months after Out Of Our Heads. What’d these records execs think, everybody would forget about ’em if they took six months off?

Well, seeing how they’d had a couple more hit 45s ("Get Off Of My Cloud” and “As Tears Go By”), the time must’ve seemed right to somebody. Unfortunately, “Get Off Of My Cloud,” which was a quantum leap in tinny production/ indecipherable lyrics, was the exception and not the rule of December’s Children. The album is largely forgettable and Mick & Keith must’ve been near their wit’s end to drag out sop like “The Singer Not The Song" and “As Tears Go By.” As usual, the cover material is “OK," but nowhere near the stuff on the first four albums.

Outside of “Cloud,” the only truly superb cut is the manic "She Said Yeah,” in which Jagger had trouble fitting in all the words at the breakneck pace the Stones whipped through it. Since this album is no big deal, this might be a good time to mention that the sound quality on all of these early Stones LPs is so-so (and certainly nowhere near the Beatles’ product). However: in the case of the Stones it scarcely even matters because it all sounds great in mono anyway. I’m no purist or anything, but if a band was ever meant for monaural recording it was the Rolling Stones.

Yep, another black and white cover, too, and the Stones were starting to look pretty damned surly. About time, I guess.

Big Hits (High Tide And Green Grass (1966): Justified by the success of “19th Nervous Breakdown," which would not appear on an album again until 1972 (Hot Rocks). Hey, I don’t count anything on Got Live!

Although this is unquestionably a really great greatest hits LP and all that, it seems a vague shame in some ways. During this era, we expected every album to be a "greatest hits” offering, except they were supposed to be new greatest hits. Well, I’m willing to write it off to the dollar-crazed record company, especially in light of their splice-andspackle approach to American Stones’albums, anyway.

What’s really baffling about this album is the inclusion of “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction" years before Devo made it a real hit song. Were they just guessing?

Aftermath (1966): In a word, the album everybody was waiting for. If Aftermath isn’t one of the two or three classic mid-60's LPs, I'm in the wrong business. Kicking things off with “Paint It Black," there is no lousy song on this album. Eyebrows might’ve been raised at the (then) real long “Going Home," but—as is usual with good Stones songs—it holds up like the Great Wall of China.

Whatever rest the band had enjoyed since Out Of Our Heads evidently did them good: this is the first Stones album with nothing but Jagger/Richard compositions. The once-fledgling bitterness towards 51% of the human populace blasts out in full force on “Think,” “Under My Thumb,” and the (wotta title) "Stupid Girl," songs that everyone remembers quite well, even though none of them were “hit" 45s.

Aftermath was so good that it probably not only scared the Beatles, it most likely scared the Stones, too. It would be some years before they’d come close to making anything good as this. The LP also

served notice that the Stones were, indeed, most adept at writing their own material, and distinctive material, toboot.

If you don’t own Aftermath. there’s no good reason to be reading this magazine.

Got Live If You Want It! (1966): And the ten-cent question is, who wants it? Obviously mixed by eleven autistic gibbons. Got Live doesn’t sound exactly stellar. In fact, there's a couple of cuts (“Fortune Teller" and “I've Been Loving You Too Long," both suspiciously enough, never-before-released) where one side of your stereo gives you the Stones and the other gives you a bunch of screaming. Of course, it might be just unprecedented separation...

Of what you can hear, the rawvoiced Jagger sounds the best, mostly because the instruments are indecipherable. Highlights of the LP: Jagger screaming “All right! All right!" ad forever at the end of “I'm Alright,” in a blatant James Brown posture, waiting to be dragged from the stage. The lowlight? Everything else. They just don’t mix ’em this bad anymore.

Between The Buttons (1967): Being a year-and-a-half since their last "real" album. Between The Buttons was in the difficult spot of living up to Aftermath and confirming Jagger/Richard as hotstuff writers. Unfortunately, it did neither.

This is a curious LP—it's unclear if the Stones were trying to sound more like the Beatles or merely less like themselves. It’s easily their biggest stab at Britpop and—while not a total failure—Between The Buttons must be regarded as a disappointment in light of the Stones' previous work.

The stand-out tune, “Let’s Spend The NightTogether,” was—natchnixed by the airwaves because it was so gosh-darned explicit. Forget the cool piano and Jagger’s merciful pleas, 1967 was a bit too early for spending the night together (doing what?)— especially when there was a kind of a hush all over the world.

The Stones held up well on other tunes, notably “Ruby Tuesday” with the undeniably-versatile Jones blowing a competent recorder, “Miss Amanda Jones," another slap at moneyed honies, and “Cool, Calm. And Collected," if only for its whiney refrain. Among the incomprehensible: “She Smiled Sweetly," “Who’s Been Sleeping Here?,” and “Something Happened To Me Yesterday," which they should’ve sent to the Kinks, postage-paid.

It only seems fair to,note that our heroes were undergoing all sorts of legal (i.e., drug) hassles around the time of Buttons, which London once again bastardized for American consumption. It’s not that this is a really bad album, it's just that it’s not the Stones' element.

Interested parties will also notice that Jones doesn’t look real' healthy on the cover pic.

Flowers (1967): On which London proved they could put “Lady Jane" on three out of four Stones’ albums! Flowers is the ultimate gapfiller—an album never released in England—that culled tunes from Aftermath. Between The Buttons, and a couple of 45s in what we can only'imagine to be an effort to keep the public eye open.

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The only justification for this jumbled collection was a chance for American aficionados to pick up on “Back Street Girl,” “Please Go Home,” “Take It Or Leave It,” “Ride On Baby,” “My Girl,” and “Siftin' On A Fence,” none of which are particularly memorable. Flowers is sort of Between The Buttons reduced to the absurd and, being released about the same time as Sgt. Pepper, is indeed the sore thumb in the Stones’ anthology. Not only is the title of the album patently ridiculous, there is no evidence of progress here. Remember, this was during a time when bands did progress (or regress), and Flowers is virtually a non-album for a group of this stature.

Soliciters for the defense will point out that the legal mishmash was still mishmashing, but the best argument is that the album was clearly a London comp job put together in wasteful haste. Even the veriest idiot knew that “Ruby Tuesday” and “Let’s Spend The Night Together” were just on the previous LP. Truly interested listeners will purchase the unadulterated British releases, which are better anyway.

Their Satanic Majesties Request (1967): Well, here it is, the floperoo that makes Flowers sound like Aftermath. No question about it, the Stones took all sorts of shit for this hunka junk. The only real question is: where do we start dismantling it??

For starters, howasbout a near-total loss of credibility? Here the Beatles practically hand them a chance to go one-up and they can’t even make a better album than Magical Mystical Tour! Drivel like “Gomper” makes George Harrison a genius by comparison, whereas dirges like “The Lantern” only show how out of touch with psychedelia the Stones were. Not to forget "Why Don’t We Sing This Song All

Together?,” to which a million listeners must’ve answered: “Because it’s so stupid?!” At least “All You Need Is Love” was funny...

Like the song says, blame it on the Stones, particularly nouveau producers Jagger and Richard, who evidently never realized you gotta have a sense of humor to try Something this ridiculous. If London Records had any sense at all, they would’ve hassled ’em about the cover of this abortion instead of Beggar's Banquet. Stones’ fans everywhere must still feel a little urpy at this first clue that the insecuros would stoop this low for a buck.

Grasping for something good to say about Satanic Majesties, let’s note Bill Wyman’s singing/songwriting debut on “In Another Land,” which (unbelievable by any standard) is one of the better cuts on the album. “The Citadel" isn’t too bad, but, Jesus, listen to what we’re comparing it tp. Ditto for ”2000 Light Years From Home.”

Other encouraging notes: the Stones would make worse LPs during the 70’s, and Brian Jones didn’t like it either. Segue into “Greensleeves."

Beggar’s Banquet (1968): After Satanic Majesties the Stones-loving public woudl’ve probably been happy with anything at all reasonable...instead, they got the best Stones album of all time. To term this a reversal would be like calling Spiro Agnew a likeable rascal.

Everybody knows about the ludicrous debate over the cover of Beggar's Banquet, so we’ll skip that. It’s what’s inside that counts, and, brother, that’s plenty.

Trying to “review” this album is nonsense, simply because it’s unimpeachable. “Street Fighting Man” might sound a little dated, but it sure sounded great back then when students were being murdered. “Sympathy For The Devil” is probably too highly-regarded, but it’s such a natural hit that you can forgive it easily. “Jig-Saw Puzzle” is undeniably Dylanesque...but, so what? Like most of Beggar’s Banquet it deals with the seedy and sordid realities of day-to-dayness.

The truly great songs on this

LP—which sounds contradictory, since I’ve already declared the whole album great—are the ones that got the least airplay. “Salt Of The Earth” is a classic adventure in ambiguity that leaves the listener not quite certain where the Stones’ sympathies lie. “Dear Doctor” shows their increasing interest (and mastery of) good country music, a trend that would later come to fruition on “Sweet Virginia.” Ditto for “Factory Girl,” which starts building an argument that the Stones might very well have been one of the greatest country (not C&W) bands of all time had they been so inclined.

“Parachute Woman” and “Stray Cat Blues” are so straightforward, well-played, and muddle-mixed that they’re practically funny. As they would later show on Exile On Main Street, the Stones were scarcely poseurs at the blues, either.

Which leaves “No Expectations" and “Prodigal Son.” Deceptively simple-sounding, “No Expectations” is one of the Stones' three or four most evocative songs on vinyl. Richard’s guitar work is practically poignant, almost transcending the

song as a whole. However, “Prodigal Son” is the best Stones’ song available, with the incredible irony that—with all this great material—they didn’t even write it. An old blues song by the Reverend Robert Wilkins, the Stones (and Jagger in particular) do it mighty proud, coming full cycle from “Down The Road Apiece” and ending up more famous, much richer, and still the finest modern blues band. And fuck the “white blues band” qualifier, I mean the finest blues band, period.

Which, to me, is a fine place to end this retrospective, forgetting about what was to come and remembering the Stones masterpiece. Glancing back over their career (through ’68), my son was lost and now he is found is about as apt a description of Beggar’s Banquet as you could want.

I refuse to discuss Through The Past. Darkly because: (1) Jones was dead, (2) They put “Dandelion” on it, and (3) They didn't put “Who’s Driving Your Plane?," their all-time B-side that Hendrix should'ue recorded, on it.

ALBUM DISCOGRAPHY

TITLE

RELEASE DATE

England's Newest Hitmakers—

The Rolling Stones (London PS 375) March 1964

12X5 (London PS 402) December 1964

The Rolling Stones Now (London PS 420) February 1965

Out Of Our Heads (London PS 429) July 1965

December's Children (London PS 451) November 1965

Big Hits (High Tide And Green Grass) (London NPS-1) March 1966

Aftermath (London PS 476) June 1966

Got Live If You Want It (London PS 493) November 1966

Between The Buttons (London PS 499) January 1967

Flowers (London PS 509) June 1967

Their Santanic Majesties Request (London NPS-2) November 1967

Beggar's Banquet (London PS 539) November 1968

Through The Past Darkly (Big Hits Vol. 2) (NPS-3) August 1969

Let It Bleed (London NPS-4) November 1969

Get Your Ya-Ya’s Out (London NPS-5) September 1970

Sticky Flngers(Rolling Stones Records COC 59100) April 1971

HotRocks 1964-1971 (London 2PS 606/7) December 1971

Exile On Main Street (Rolling Stones Records COC-2-2900) May 1972 More Hot Rocks

(Big Hits And Fazed Cookies) (London 2PS 626/7) November 1972

Goat'sHeadSoup(RollingStonesRecordsCOC59101) September 1978 It's Only Rock And Roll (Rolling Stones Records COC 79101) October 1974 Metamorphosis (London/Abkco ANA 1) June 1975

Made In The Shade (Rolling Stones Records COC 39107) June 1975

Black And Blue (Rolling Stones Records COC 79104) April 1976

Love You Live (Rolling Stones Records COC 2-9001) October 1977

SomeGirls(RollingStonesRecordsCOC39108) June 1978

Emotional Rescue (Rolling Stones Records COC 16015) June 1980

Sucking In The Seventies (Rolling Stones Records COC 16028) March 1981 Tattoo You (Rolling Stones Records COC 16052) August 1981