Ye Gads. What on Earth are they thinking?

Firstly, don’t get me wrong. I love the Rolling Stones. In fact I’m a huge fan, and by that I’m not just referring to my expanding waistline. I have all 12 studio albums from1966’s Aftermath to 1978’s Some Girls, and it’s with the latter where the problem lies.

If there was a ‘Hanging Judge Roy Bean’ of the music world he’d have passed sentence on the Stones at this particular juncture and ensured they never recorded or toured together again. Some Girls should, by all rights, have been their final album. A half-decent final crack of the whip before they retired gracefully and left those who’d been there with their memories; and the ones like me who hadn’t, with a stunning body of work to look back on and enjoy, unsullied by anything that’s come since.

The signs were there for all to see. There wasn’t a single song on Some Girls that could’ve held its own alongside such indisputable classics as ‘Rocks Off’, ‘Moonlight Mile’, or ‘Jumpin Jack Flash’. Perhaps they only have themselves to blame for this.

the rolling stones in better days

You see, there was a period in the late 60s through to the early 70s when each studio album they released was a stone-cold classic; all in a fast succession of one another. If you don’t believe me, check these gems out for yourself:

  • 1967 - Their Satanic Majesties Request (despite what the critics might say)
  • 1968 – Beggars Banquet
  • 1969 – Let It Bleed
  • 1971 – Sticky Fingers (The best album ever released by anyone, anywhere)
  • 1972 – Exile On Main St.
  • 1973 – Goats Head Soup (The wheat outweighs the chaff)

At this point things started to slip. In-band frictions and Keith’s escalating drug problems might’ve been the root cause, but if It’s Only Rock’n'Roll had its moments, Black and Blue’s were fewer (the sublime ‘Memory Motel’ and ‘The Hand of Fate’ being notable exceptions). And so the law of diminishing returns applies and the next album, Some Girls, should’ve been the last.

They suddenly sounded as though they were trying to keep up with the trends of the time: punk and disco. But they shouldn’t have had to be keeping up. Their sound was theirs and it was a by-product of a drugged-up, loved-up, violent and often sleazy time. The punk and disco era may have shared these characteristics but they ultimately produced inferior music.

And so the option of graceful retirement I mentioned earlier should’ve been the one they selected. They could’ve retreated to their country estates beyond the reach of the taxman and spent the last 30 years counting their money.

Which brings us bang up to date, two thousand and eight. The Queen is in the 56th year of her reign over us all, and like her, The Rolling Stones are still bloody going.

the rolling stones and the ravages of age

They have a combined age of 256 and look as though they’ve been dug up. The fact that Keef’s not been officially pronounced dead is testament to the positive aspects that drink and drug abuse can have on the human body in the long-term. The man’s pickled from the inside out.

Whatever happened to growing old with dignity? Is it just me who finds them to be a ridiculous parody of their former selves? They resemble a Gerald Scarfe caricature gone badly wrong.

On stage it must seem like kicking out time at the Darby & Joan club after old Bert’s had half a mild to many, a win on the fruity, and is now up on the tables singing along to the jukebox in an effort to impress old Daisy and Ethel, his adoring fans.

Pelvic thrusts from a 64 year old, do not a pleasant sight make.

Bill Wyman, although party to the pap they churned out during the 80s at least had the common sense to leave the Rock ‘n’ Roll Circus in 1992. Not the remaining members though.

I mean, you have Keith Richards. Once the coolest man on the planet (circa. 1970), take a look at him now. If you have a fireplace, and you have kids, there’s no longer any need to invest in a fireguard. A photo of Keef today will perform a sterling job.

Then there’s Mick. A man in denial if I ever saw one. He must be under the delusion that he still looks the same as he did in the 60s and 70s, but what was once a unique and flamboyant stage style that had the ladies falling at his feet, now puts you in mind of an outrageous old queen. All he needs is the cravat and smoking jacket and he could pass himself as a Quentin Crisp tribute act.

Which brings us to Charlie, dear old Charlie. The remaining original member of the Stones. Always the quietly cool one. For Christ’s sake, you’ve survived throat cancer. I’m sure you’re due a rest now.

Even Woody – he may have missed the Stones’ golden era (a lapsing Brian Jones, followed by Mick Taylor was in place during this special time) but that’s no excuse to continue as part of this charade. He had his glory days with the Faces, which is something most modern bands would kill for.

the rolling stones with sticky fingers

I’m sorry to say it but the Rolling Stones are trampling on the legacy of some of the greatest music ever committed to vinyl, cassette, compact disc, mp3, or whatever’s the next thing to come along. Give it up lads. Let us remember you in your prime.

And if you need any more persuading, just imagine Mick Jagger singing ‘Starf*cker’ today. It wouldn’t seem right, would it?

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