Sticky Fingers - The Rolling Stones - album review

Sticky Fingers, released by the Rolling Stones in 1971, is deserving of its place in the company of the other great studio albums issued by the group between 1968 and 1972. Of the albums from that era Sticky Fingers has the lowest emotional pull for me, even though it contains some truly great tracks, and it has also stood the test of time well.

The reason why it doesn't chime as richly as the others is that it is rather "neat and tidy". It is in fact a stylistically diverse record, but is structured in such a way that it feels very orderly. So it serves more as a collection of songs rather than an overall musical or philosophical statement. Saying that it lacks the social relevance of Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed is not wholly fair. One could argue that Sticky Fingers reflects the jaded resignation and stagnation of the early Seventies. Whilst in the late Sixties people were seeking to change the world, or to vent their anger, by 1971 the trend was towards looking inwards or numbing the pain.

The opening number on the LP, "Brown Sugar", is one of the band's signature tunes, although I have heard it so often that its impact has become progressively dulled, and there is a danger that it can begin to feel like a self-parody or "Stones-by-numbers". Viewed objectively, it is a musical tour-de-force, although the lyrics are dated to put it kindly, regardless of how much tongue might have been embedded in the collective cheek of the musicians. Keith Richards' riffs and Charlie Watts' drumming are still worth hearing, no matter how much familiarity has eaten away at the song's freshness.

This was the first Stones studio album to feature Mick Taylor throughout as a full member, and it is noticeable how his presence and abilities augment the group's palette. "Sway" is one instance of this, his guitar prowess adding much subtlety and melodic texture, as it does on other numbers.

"Wild Horses" is one of the band's most enduring and heartfelt ballads, benefiting from one of Mick Jagger's most impressive and underrated vocals. Keith's electric guitar flourishes are very evocative and significantly enhance the mood of the piece.

I find "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" to be quintessential early Seventies Stones, at least in its early stages. The angry rhythm, the lyrical subject matter, the murky vocal harmonies in the chorus, nicely buried slightly in the mix. The closing instrumental section is slightly untypical of the Stones, but is beautifully executed, with significant contributions from Bobby Keys and Mick Taylor. These passages have a vaguely Latin feel, and are in keeping with the laid-back, "decadent" feel of much of the record.

"You Gotta Move" in some respects harks back to the stylistic territory covered by Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed, and it is another showcase for the talents of Mick Taylor.  The song "Bitch" is so wonderfully taut, urgent and airless that it can almost pass by unnoticed. It has some nicely ragged vocal harmonies and effective brass parts.

The influence of the Stax sound is clearly evident on "I Got The Blues", most conspicuously in its horn arrangement and the organ playing of Billy Preston.  Another fine Jagger vocal here, and although overall the song is relatively "minor", it is just too good to be deemed filler.

"Sister Morphine", co-written by Mick and Keith with Marianne Faithfull, is a haunting creation, and it also sounds like a hangover from the material of the late Sixties, which is not surprising when one realizes that this version was recorded during the Let It Bleed sessions. The slide playing of Ry Cooder is a key element of the song's power. Of course the subject of the words was a theme which ran through Sticky Fingers, in one form or another...

The penultimate track on the album, "Dead Flowers", is one which I suspect divides opinion. One of the band's first overt excursions into the world of country-rock. It may be tongue-in-cheek lyrically, and to some degree musically,although not without its merits. The chorus harmonies are quite stirring, and the song helps to lighten the mood amidst the weightier and more earnest material which surrounds it.

"Moonlight Mile" deserves its reputation as one of the most effective album-closers in rock music. Atmospherically and spiritually it complements the rest of the record, and it arguably encapsulates where the wider music scene was in 1971. Mick's vocal shows some versatility and range, and strengthens the view that this album is one of those which displays his voice at its strongest and most flexible. Strings are employed judiciously, and other instrumental touches accentuate the tone and ambience of the song.

So in summary it takes a little work to absorb and appreciate the strengths of Sticky Fingers. It can be seen as a summation and a rounding up, or polishing, of what had gone immediately before. As an entity in itself it may be perceived as less iconic and "important" than the other classic Stones releases of the period, but on closer examination it is as substantial as any of them, and arguably contains less in the way of lightweight material.

The music is still earthy and authentic, but also focussed and self-assured. A very fine album.

The Rolling Stones 1968-1972

Some artists or groups have a fairly regular and consistent career path, with occasional peaks and troughs along the way.  However, I struggle to think of an act whose time of greatest creativity and zest is so clearly defined as the Rolling Stones are by their output in the period 1968-1972.

During this four or five year span, the Stones fashioned their most consistent and coherent creations, and their records immediately preceding and succeeding it sound anaemic and uninspired by comparison. The band released four studio albums, with a stellar live set (Get Yer Ya-Yas Out) neatly sandwiched in between.  Each of those albums has a distinct character, reflecting not just developments within the Rolling Stones, but also in the wider world.

So what was the background to this vibrant phase? 

From the start of their recording career, the Stones had leavened their gutsier, bluesier persona with more pop-orientated material. The psychedelic experimentation immediately prior to 1968 may have met with ambivalence and even incredulity, but it did see the consolidation of the Jagger/Richards axis, and the diminishing role and influence of Brian Jones. The Stones were being re-shaped, but for what future purpose was not yet totally clear.

As 1968 dawned, however, it became clear that "flower power" was losing much of its urgency and lustre. As it turned out, this shift worked in the Stones' favour.  Rock music was preparing to move in a more rootsy direction (Bob Dylan, The Byrds, The Band), and other artists looked to embrace this to some degree or other. The Stones were no exception.

In this climate of social and political ferment, the stage was ideally suited to the Stones' edgier, rebellious, anti-establishment take.  The vogue for stripped-down and less elaborate sounds in a time of upheaval was not entirely coincidental.  Many were disenchanted with the naivete of 1967, and were looking to alternative methods and agendas.  The artifice of much psychedelic music seemed incongruous against this backdrop.

Above all, the Stones must have felt liberated from the need to conform and compromise, as they had done for much of the previous two years.  They could be "themselves" once more....

The first fruits of this rebirth came with the single "Jumping Jack Flash".   Even from the scuzzy opening guitar chords, and the sinewy riff which follows, once can feel that this is a new, more purposeful Rolling Stones. The recruitment of producer Jimmy Miller helped to sculpt this new sound.

The same groups of recording sessions spawned the Beggars Banquet album. Few albums before or since have defined their times as pertinently as this one did.  The edginess, uncertainty, menace, belligerence even, are palpable. The idealism and optimism of 1967 had given way to realism and cynicism.

It is open to debate whether Beggars Banquet should be regarded as the soundtrack to a year, as it was released in December of 1968, but the Stones slotted seamlessly into their role.  Country blues sounds are prominent on the album, and the earthiness and sincerity are perfectly in tune with the mood. 

The widespread use of acoustic guitars on the album adds to the authenticity, grit and immediacy. They seem more "proletarian" than vulgar electric ones!  And no attempt is made to conceal finger noises and other imperfections.  This "warts and all" approach is one of the secrets to the power of Beggars Banquet.

"Sympathy For The Devil", epic and sinister, sets the tone as the opening track.  Engagingly and defiantly different and percussive, this song and its message seem symbolic of the shift in the Western mindset around that time. A shrewd choice with which to commence proceedings.

Another linchpin of the album is "Street Fighting Man", which has been the focus of heated debate down the years. More acoustic guitars, and what seems an ambivalent, sardonic and slightly mocking view of the year's events.  Whichever interpretation we place on this song, it remains a powerful piece, lyrically and musically.

Two of the numbers on the album, "Parachute Woman" and "Jigsaw Puzzle", with its sub-Bob Dylan words, would normally be filed under "filler", but here they blend into the whole, so their mediocrity is less conspicuous. "Stray Cat Blues" is a nod to traditional Stones territory, and fits in musically, even if its lyrics are out of place.

Beggars Banquet closes with two paeans to blue-collar values, "Factory Girl" and "Salt of The Earth".

By the time the Stones commenced recording Let It Bleed, Brian Jones was a peripheral figure at best, and appears on only two tracks.

In places, Let It Bleed is indeed apocalyptic and incendiary, but to these ears is nowhere near as uniformly strong or cohesive as Beggars Banquet.  This may have been partly intentional, and the traumas being undergone by the Stones also played a role, but I would say that Let It Bleed's reputation is ever so slightly out of proportion to its aesthetic merit.

In spite of my mild misgivings, I still rate some of the songs on Let It Bleed.  "Gimme Shelter" , as well as being au courant for the end of the 1960s, is one of the outstanding slabs in the Stones catalogue, and indeed the whole of rock music, and "Love In Vain" is one of their most effective covers, but the rest is uneven and patchy. 

There is something vaguely tired and listless about much of Let It Bleed, and I am still not fully convinced by the efforts of some critics to talk these things up as if they represent virtues. It might have sounded relevant and important in 1969, but to more dispassionate modern ears it is by far the weakest of the four studio albums released during the period which we are looking at.

Many changes had occurred by the time of the 1971 release of Sticky Fingers. The world was a different place, much of the revolutionary fervour having evaporated.  Mick Taylor was now fully integrated into the set-up, rather than being a hired hand.

Sticky Fingers is civilised, well-structured and shrewdly produced.  It lacks the rambling, informal quality of Exile on Main Street, but the material is strong and memorable.  The lyrical spotlight is firmly on the hedonistic, reflecting perhaps the jaded resignation characteristic of the young decade.

When listening, it is immediately noticeable how much Mick Taylor's guitar flourishes add to the palette, complementing the de facto rhythm section of Keith Richards and Charlie Watts.  There is more texture and depth than before, and the addition of Taylor also facilitates more instrumental virtuosity and experimentation, as evidenced by the closing section of "Can't You Hear Me Knocking?". The sound on Sticky Fingers is accessible and clear, but the trademark Stones grittiness is not sacrificed.

There is a sensible balance between rockers and ballads.  The album, though, is almost entirely devoid of social commentary, and therefore verges on the one-dimensional lyrics-wise. This may be where Sticky Fingers acquired its reputation as the one which most embodies the fabled Stonesy "swagger".   "Brown Sugar" is an absolute gem, but could also be termed "Rolling Stones by Numbers".

Exile On Main Street is often cited as the culmination of everything that the Stones had been working towards, but I'm not altogether sure about this.  The 1972 release should be seen as a unique entity, or a tangential work, because of the conditions under which it was recorded, and its groove.  If you're looking for the "quintessential" Stones album, you might be better stopping off at Sticky Fingers.

No, I tend to regard "Exile" as a project all by itself, differing in vibe and sound from those which came before, less concise and less concerned with structure and form.  It could almost qualify as a compendium of American "roots" music (blues,country, R&B,soul,gospel), but that was unlikely to have been the intention.

I know that some people, on their initial listen, can find "Exile" a touch alienating, because of its slapdash nature and the "foggy" sound. Persevere, though, and these are the things which you will find most endearing about the project. 

Exile on Main Street begins and ends with some of its most recognisable tracks ("Rocks Off", "Rip This Joint","Soul Survivor"), but in between is an eclectic blend of offerings, some of them on the surface sounding like lightweight afterthoughts, but forming an appetising whole.

In comparison to the more considered sheen of Sticky Fingers, "Exile" almost feels like a series of "demo" versions of new songs, but it is to the Stones' credit that they resisted the temptation to go for the easy option in 1972, and come up with more of the same.  Above all, it sounds like the Stones and their entourage had a swell time putting these songs together, and this exuberance oozes from every chord.

We have mentioned the raw and loose playing on the album, and this is all held together with a glorious soulfulness, most clearly found on such songs as "Let It Loose", "Shine A Light" and "Loving Cup".  Hard to define, but very much there.

The Stones made great records before 1968-1972, and some great ones since, but never again did they recapture that "sweet spot", that intangible spirit which informed their music during their halcyon period. 

Rather than lament the relative lack of inspiration in the post-1972 catalogue, I think that we should just enjoy and savour these four albums......