Keith Richards
Main Offender

THE REVIEW

Keef has the look of someone who is self-assured on the cover of "Main Offender," almost as if to say "you know full well that I've been giving you the same stuff for 40 years, but you will listen to it again." And in the end, he was right. I bought the CD even though my expectations were frankly low, and I started listening to it without too many pretenses, expecting it to be the kind of work that tires you after the first listen.

Keith, leaning on the precise and reassuring rhythm of an old acquaintance like drummer Steve Jordan, delivers exactly what you expect from him, in other words, all the "guitarism" that made him famous worldwide, and he offers us a dusty and seasoned rock that almost makes you angry with how "old style" it is, but that's where the surprise lies: that old moldy rock that he pulls out from his Fender is enough to quench all my thirst for music and manages for 50 minutes to make everything my ears have "tasted" until today seem unnecessary.

In the company of trusty Waddy Wachtel on the second guitar, Richards rolls out those riffs of unparalleled solidity that are his trademark, riffs that make you feel that sense of security you had forgotten about and thought you could never feel again. And by letting yourself be carried away by those diabolical rhythms, you can enjoy the most genuine melodies that the rolling stone has ever made heard: tranquility is in the air here, there is no presence of that super production typical of the Stones in recent years, there is no concern about selling millions of copies, there are just old musicians playing with passion what has become their way of life, proving once again that the old school of rock-blues can still cut its figure.

Richards' voice, hoarse and "gritty," tells the stories that a sixty-year-old like him has seen, heard, and lived, smoky, dirty, and dangerous stories. Sure, the album is not devoid of flaws: the lyrics suffer a bit from banality, and surely the music will leave a "retro taste" of déjà vu. But this matters little, Keith knows this very well. And so do his songs; they don't charm or woo you. These songs absolutely don't care what you think, what you like, or what you want, it's as if they are aware of their potential and grab you by the neck, dragging you into their world, old, dusty, but always so damn satisfying.

And at the end of it all, looking at the booklet at the photo of Keef slyly smoking a cigarette, you can hear him say:

"I've told you a thousand times, it's only rock & roll, but apparently you like it."