•
Rating: It's 1968. The recently ended summer of love withers under the scorching waves of student demonstrations all over Europe; the fight against the authority of institutions such as family, religion, and the state was carried out "with blood and iron" (to quote Bismarck).
The new rebels of '68, the young people who, for the first time in the history of mankind, had money in their pockets, the atheistic unbelievers and idolaters of Che Guevara, those who defaced the walls of the University of Paris, those who simultaneously rejected bourgeois values and the new industry born just for them, could rely on an unprecedentedly effective weapon: rock. For blues' offspring, too, it was a period of turbulent change: the future Genesis, still teenagers, were developing progressive rock at their school desks; the robust power blues of Jimmy Page's New Yardbirds, the future Led Zeppelin, emitted their first cries, with their upcoming performances in Scandinavia; psychedelia, in the minds of characters like the good madman Syd 'Madcap' Barrett of Pink Floyd, finally rose to the rank of true, great art, in works like A Saucerful Of Secrets.
And what was happening to the Rolling Stones? After the pop of early '67's "Between The Buttons" and the psychedelic detour, all flowers and garlands, of the wayward "Their Satanic Majesties Request," hot on the heels of the Beatles, the Stones experienced an awakening: being hippies wasn't in their nature. And how could they have, then: they were the ones responsible for the most transgressive and adverse image of rock. With the increasingly precarious influence of Brian Jones (even if his contribution in this microslice is far from absent), who died a year later, the celebrated Jagger/Richard (before he was known as Richards) duo marks a decisive, stubborn, and categorical return to the band's rhythm and blues roots. Preceded in May by the excellent single Jumpin' Jack Flash, "Beggars Banquet" was released in stores in November '68. An ancestor of a tetralogy of masterpieces and milestones in music history, which includes "Let It Bleed," "Sticky Fingers," and "Exile On Main Street," the album was a genuine bombshell already at its date of release.
The vulgar and decadent cover, depicting a soiled and decayed latrine, rejected in the USA and replaced by an innocuous and obsequious imitation of a virginal business card, marks the return to the dark side of rock and their image of "dirty, bad, and ugly." Inspired by contemporary political-social events, the superb "Street Fighting Man," also the album's leading single, becomes a profound reflection on the crucial themes of a rebel's life. But the true masterpiece of the collection is the sinister "Sympathy For The Devil," where the explicit satanic lyrics, influenced by the reading of Bulgakov's "The Master and Margarita," Keith Richard's fiery phrasings, Nicky Hopkins' elegant piano scores, and Mick Jagger's perfect vocal rendition as an erudite and sharp Lucifer, make this track an epic and terrifying contribution to the pages of Rock History. In "Stray Cat Blues," Jagger and company delve into sexual themes already brought to the fore in previous works. Brian Jones temporarily resurfaces from the dark abyss of drugs and depression, before sinking into it permanently, and offers the listener real gems: "No Expectations" (a great sitar piece) and "Dear Doctor." With a setting etched on the dark underworlds of New Orleans or Chicago, this album was and is one of the pillars of R&B.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Sympathy for the Devil (06:25)
Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for long, long years
Stole many man's soul and faith
I was 'round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game
Stuck around St. Petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain
I rode a tank
Held a general's rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
Ah, what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah
I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made
I shouted out
"Who killed the Kennedys?"
When after all
It was you and me
Let me please introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reach Bombay
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
Is just the nature of my game
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails, just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint
So if you meet me, have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or I'll lay your soul to waste, mmm yeah
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, mmm yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, mmm mean it, get down
Tell me baby, what's my name?
Tell me honey, can ya guess my name?
Tell me baby, what's my name?
I tell you one time, you're to blame
What's my name?
Tell me baby, what's my name?
Tell me sweetie, what's my name?
02 No Expectations (04:00)
M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Take me to the station
And put me on a train
I've got no expectations
To pass through here again
Once I was a rich man and
Now I am so poor
But never in my sweet short life
Have I felt like this before
You heart is like a diamond
You throw your pearls at swine
And as I watch you leaving me
You pack my peace of mind
Our love was like the water
That splashes on a stone
Our love is like our music
Its here, and then its gone
So take me to the airport
And put me on a plane
I got no expectations
To pass through here again
06 Street Fighting Man (03:16)
Ev'rywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet, boy
'Cause summer's here and the time is right for fighting in the street, boy
But a-what can a poor boy do
'Cept to sing for a rock 'n' roll band
'Cause in sleepy London town
There's just no place for a street fighting man, no
Hey, think the time is right for a palace revolution
'Cause where I live the game to play is compromise solution
Well then what can a poor boy do
'Cept to sing for a rock 'n' roll band
'Cause in sleepy London town
There's no place for a street fighting man, no
Get down!
Hey, said my name is called disturbance
I'll shout and scream, I'll kill the king, I'll rail at all his servants
And then what can a poor boy do
'Cept to sing for a rock 'n' roll band
'Cause in sleepy London town
There's no place for a street fighting man, no
Get down!
07 Prodigal Son (02:53)
(Rev. Wilkins)
Well a poor boy took his father's bread and started down the road
Started down the road
Took all he had and started down the road
Going out in this world, where God only knows
And that'll be the way to get along
Well poor boy spent all he had, famine come in the land
Famine come in the land
Spent all he had and famine come in the land
Said, "I believe I'll go and hire me to some man"
And that'll be the way I'll get along
Well, man said, "I'll give you a job for to feed my swine
For to feed my swine
I'll give you a job for to feed my swine"
Boy stood there and hung his head and cried
`Cause that is no way to get along
Said, "I believe I'll ride, believe I'll go back home
Believe I'll go back home
Believe I'll ride, believe I'll go back home
Or down the road as far as I can go"
And that'll be the way to get along
Well, father said, "See my son coming home to me
Coming home to me"
Father ran and fell down on his knees
Said, "Sing and praise, Lord have mercy on me"
Mercy
Oh poor boy stood there, hung his head and cried
Hung his head and cried
Poor boy stood and hung his head and cried
Said, "Father will you look on me as a child?"
Yeah
Well father said, "Eldest son, kill the fatted calf,
Call the family round
Kill that calf and call the family round
My son was lost but now he is found
'Cause that's the way for us to get along"
Hey
08 Stray Cat Blues (04:38)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
I hear the click-clack of your feet on the stairs
I know you're no scare-eyed honey.
There'll be a feast if you just come upstairs
But it's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
I can see that you're fifteen years old
No I don't want your I.D.
You look so rest-less and you're so far from home
But it's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
Oh yeah, you're a strange stray cat
Oh yeah, don'tcha scratch like that
Oh yeah, you're a strange stray cat
Bet your mama don't know you scream like that
I bet your mother don't know you can spit like that.
You look so weird and you're so far from home
But you don't really miss your mother
Don't look so scared I'm no mad-brained bear
But it's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
Oh, yeah
Woo!
I bet your mama don't know that you scatch like that
I bet she don't know you can bite like that.
You say you got a friend, that she's wilder than you
Why don't you bring her upstairs
If she's so wild then she can join in too
It's no hanging matter
It's no capital crime
Oh yeah, you're a strange stray cat
Oh yeah, don'tcha scratch like that
Oh yeah, you're a strange stray cat
I bet you mama don't know you can bite like that
I'll bet she never saw you scratch my back
10 Salt of the Earth (04:51)
M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's drink to the lowly of birth
Raise your glass to the good and the evil
Let's drink to the salt of the earth
Say a prayer for the common foot soldier
Spare a thought for his back breaking work
Say a prayer for his wife and his children
Who burn the fires and who still till the earth
And when I search a faceless crowd
A swirling mass of gray and
Black and white
They don't look real to me
In fact, they look so strange
Raise your glass to the hard working people
Let's drink to the uncounted heads
Let's think of the wavering millions
Who need leaders but get gamblers instead
Spare a thought for the stay-at-home voter
His empty eyes gaze at strange beauty shows
And a parade of the gray suited grafters
A choice of cancer or polio
And when I look in the faceless crowd
A swirling mass of grays and
Black and white
They don't look real to me
Or don't they look so strange
Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's think of the lowly of birth
Spare a thought for the rag taggy people
Let's drink to the salt of the earth
Let's drink to the hard working people
Let's drink to the salt of the earth
Let's drink to the two thousand million
Let's think of the humble of birth
Loading comments slowly
Other reviews
By the clash
The Rolling Stones are the emblem of defiance and rebellion, facing old age with energy and will to live.
"Sympathy For The Devil" is provocative and bizarre, defining the Stones as revolutionaries shaking up the system.
By Lorenzo_1987
"This is how 'Beggars Banquet' opens, the best, the most varied, the most innovative, the most scandalous and shocking album by the Stones."
"The worthy conclusion of a timeless album."
