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Rating:
Despite the fact that from their beginnings the music of the Rolling Stones has always been dominated by black influences, this is perhaps their most "black" album since the days when the five were performing thrilling re-makes of songs by Chuck Berry, Solomon Burke, and Sam Cooke. From the beginning to the end of Black And Blue, the Stones make a thorough reconnaissance of the black funk from New York to Kingston, and as "Hot Stuff" demonstrates, sometimes both ethnic cultures collide in a bizarre collision. The group rides a repetitive disco riff, while that big brag of Jagger mumbles his personal interpretation of the playful Jamaican talkover. However, the menacing stance the Stones take in this and other tracks is certainly not that of certain peaks of the empty street generation, but rather that of dashing Sweet Macks, flaunting high-heeled crocodile shoes, pants creased as sharp as razors, and pink diamonds the size of pigeon eggs: Gentlemen of Leisure. Sure, Hot Stuff and the insidious Hey Negrita might well represent the type of brutalized danceable that Le Jardin plays until your feet and ears bleed, but these two tracks do not require a Tom Moulton mix to be fashionable. On the contrary, this record is an experiment in style where the Stones reaffirm their origins, integrating the rawest elements of Salsa and Fatback funk.
Anyway, there are moments when the performance is good but the result is weak. Eric Donaldson's Cherry Oh Baby, for example, is a failure due to the same reasons that made Luxury one of the most successful tracks of It's Only RNR. In truth, the Stones are much more adept at recreating a particular style according to their needs than at reproducing a straight copy. As a "mandatory" reggae track, Cherry Oh Baby does not add any additional arrows to their quiver.
In search of new black inspirations, Billy Preston is grabbed by the collar to the point of being Jagger's shadow in Melody, and together the two hum this gem of pure Uptown "schmaltz". On a purely spontaneous level, it is certainly the best track on the album, and, despite Preston making his presence felt here and there, this is not at the expense of Keith Richard's tasty blues phrases or Charlie Watts' skillful drumming, undoubtedly the major protagonist of the album.
Of the eight long tracks, only Hand Of Fate, with an admirable guitar solo by Wayne Perkins, and Crazy Mama come close to the Stones' more traditional riffs, even if reduced to the essentials.
Memory Motel is the way Jagger prefers to sing the blues; made in the same stylized mold from which came Moonlight Mile and If You Really Want To Be My Friend, it is a seven-minute "on the road" love song, featuring Jagger, Richard, and Preston on keyboards with Perkins and Mandel on guitars.
To finish, Black And Blue may not be the album that most of the aficionados expected, especially since Mick Taylor left after five years and his absence is felt. The Stones will try a handful without outstanding results. Maybe it's the material that shows too many cracks of imagination, too much routine.
Tracklist Lyrics and Samples
02 Hand of Fate (04:27)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
The hand of fate is on me now
It pick me up and knock me down
I'm on the run, I'm prison bound
The hand of fate is heavy now
I killed a man, I'm highway bound
The wheel of fortune keeps turning round
Turning round, turning round
I should have known it was a one horse town
My sweet girl was once his wife
He had papers the judge had signed
The wind blew hard, it was stormy night
He shot me once, but I shot him twice
The hand of fate is on me now
It pick me up and it kicked me right down
Kicked me right down
Kicked me right down
I had to save her life
Yeah, I gunned him twice
Yeah, and I watched him die, watch out boy
Yeah, I watched him die
He was a barroom man, the violent kind
He had no love for that gal of mine
Then one day in a drinking bout
He swore he'd throw me right of town
The hand of fate is on me now
I shot that man I put him underground
I put him underground
Yes I did
I'm on the run, I hear the hounds
My luck is up, my chips are down
So goodbye baby, so long now
Wish me luck, I'm going to need it child
The hand of fate is on me now
Yeah it's too late
Too late baby, too late now
The hand of fate is on me now
The hand of fate is heavy now
It pick you up and knock you down
04 Memory Motel (07:09)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Hannah honey was a peachy kind of girl
Her eyes were hazel
And her nose were slightly curved
We spent a lonely night at the Memory Motel
It's on the ocean, I guess you know it well
It took a starry NIGHT to steal my breath away
Down on the water front
Her hair all drenched in spray
Hannah baby was a honey of a girl
Her eyes were hazel
And her teeth were slightly curved
She took my guitar and she began to play
She sang a song to me
Stuck right in my brain
You're just a memory of a love
That used to be
You're just a memory of a love
That used to mean so much to me
She got a mind of her own
And she use it well
Well she's one of a kind
She's got a mind
She got a mind of her own
And she use it mighty fine
She drove a pick-up truck
Painted green and blue
The tires were wearing thin
She turned a mile or two
When I asked her where she headed for
"Back up to Boston I'm singing in a bar"
I got to fly today on down to Baton Rouge
My nerves are shot already
The road ain't all that smooth
Across in Texas is the rose of San Antone
I keep on a feeling that's gnawing in my bones
You're just a memory of a love
That used to mean so much to me
You're just a memory girl
You're just a sweet memory
And it used to mean so much to me
Sha la la la la
She got a mind of her own
And she use it well
Mighty fine, she's one of a kind
On the seventh day my eyes were all a glaze
We've been ten thousand miles
Been in fifteen states
Every woman seemed to fade out of my mind
I hit the bottle and hit the sack and cried
What's all this laughter on the 22nd floor
It's just some friends of mine
And they're busting down the door
Been a lonely night at the Memory Motel
05 Hey Negrita (04:59)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Hey Negrita, hey now
Move your body, move your mouth
Shake lady, way down south
Shake baby, in your home town
Come si chiama, what's you game
I'm just a poor man, what's your name
Shake your body, do it up now
Shake body, move it up now
Hey Negrita, hey now
Hey conchita, shake it up now
Bate las caderas, do it up now
Flash of gold in your ears, child
Flash of gold in your eyes
Saw the gleam in your mouth
Saw the steel in your thighs
Do it up now
Bate las caderas, do it up now
Just a momentita, not so fast
I need money, my sweet ass
Listen I'm a poor man
My pay is low
Here's one last dollar, then we go
"One last dollar," she say "I got my pride"
Going to get your boss, boy
Going to tan your hide
Hey Negrita, hey now
Hey Negrita, do it right now
06 Melody (05:49)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Came home one morning about quarter to three
I'm banging on my door cause I just lost my key
Open up, baby, you got someone else inside
I'm going to come get you dead or alive
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
I took her out dancing but she drank away my cash
She said, "I'm going to fix my face don't you worry I'll be back"
I'm looking for her high and low like a mustard for a ham
She was crashed out in the bathroom
In the arms of my best friend
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name...
Then one day she left me
She took everything that moved
My car, she took my trailer home
She took my Sunday boots
My nose is on her trail
I'm going to catch her by surprise
Then I'm going to have the pleasure
To roast that child alive
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name
Melody, it was her second name...
08 Crazy Mama (04:34)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Well you're crazy Mama
With your ball and chain
And your sawn off shotgun
Blown out brains, yeah
You can scandalize me
Scorn my name
You can steal my money
And that don't mean a doggone thing
Cause if you really think you can push it
I'm going to bust your knees with a bullet
Your crazy mama, ah yeah
Well your old time religion
Is just a superstition
You going to pay high prices
For your sacrificises
Well your blood and thunder
Sure can't faze me none
If your going to keep on coming
I'm gonna take it all head on
If you don't believe I'm going to do it
Just wait till you get hit by that bullet
Don't think I ain't thought about it
But it sure makes my shackles rise
And cold blood murder
Make me want to draw the line
Well your crazy mama
With your ball and chain
Plain psychotic
Plain insane
If you don't think I'm gonna do it
Just wait for the thud of the bullet
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