Published on Apr 7, 2005
Regarded as one of the best double-albums of all time and a
cornerstone of rock, the only major debate surrounding the Rolling
Stones’
Exile on Main St. is whether or not it’s their best
recording. Many critics have taken turns switching
Exile On Main St. with
Let It Bleed and more recently,
Aftermath as the Rolling Stones’ finest hour (the same thing
happens with the Beatles — in the 1980s, most critics thought
Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was their best work,
now, in the age of garage rock, many critics are now saying
Revolver is their best work). With due respect to
Let It Bleed and
Aftermath, allow me to cast my vote for
Exile On Main St.
The late ’60s were not kind to the Rolling Stones. The band
single-handedly ended the utopian idealism of the ’60s with the
infamous concert at Altamont and a major tax problem sent them to
Southern France (at least their drug use was enough under control
not to splinter their creative processes). Strung out, no doubt
suffering from periods of disillusion and depression, the Rolling
Stones entered Keith Richards’s moldy mansion and had enough of a
solid head on their shoulders to come out with a double-album of
blues, R&B and rock fusion that sounded like nothing they had
recorded before.
Point of note:
Exile On Main St. doesn’t sound like Pink Floyd’s
Dark Side Of The Moon. In fact, the album sounds like shit.
Jagger slurs most of his lyrics so much that you need a Google
search to decipher most of the album’s lyrics. Mick Taylor and
Richards’ guitars bump, stumble and trip over one another with a
greasy, nocturnal swagger. Only Charlie Watts’ meticulous drumming
sounds rehearsed; otherwise, the album has the feel of a late-night
jam session.
Of course, it takes a great band to make sounding sloppy so
easy, especially when it comes to the lyrics. Almost five years
before the Ramones made slackerdom cool and more than twenty years
before Billy Joe Armstrong bitched about how masturbation had lost
its fun, Jagger kicks off
Exile with “Rocks Off,” one of the greatest odes to heroin’s
effect, or boredom, or being a rock star, or something. “The
sunshine bores the daylights out of me” Jagger famously bemoans —
and god, you believe him by the time the song ends.
After “Rocks Off,” the Rolling Stones tear through a couple of
rockers and jammers, but it will take a few songs before the
Rolling Stones drop the first unqualified masterpiece, “Tumbling
Dice.” This sets a pattern for
Exile On Main St. — a sustained pattern of great songs with
some expert placement of the album’s other masterpieces: “Loving
Cup,” “Happy” and “Soul Survivor.”
With eighteen tracks, only two are covers: Slim Harpo’s “Hip
Shake” and “Stop Breaking Down.” Though the Stones have been
criticized for ripping off blues artists of decades past, nothing
on
Exile On Main St. seems inauthentic. It may have its slow
moments and it may not have back-to-back greatness of
Let It Bleed, but
Exile On Main St.‘s scope elevates it to classic status.