The Rolling Stones
Goats Head Soup

Do you prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones? This recurring and stereotypical question (as if you were asked whether you love mom or dad more?) never really caught my interest (and personally, I've always had a certain inclination toward the Who). I've always thought that the Beatles and the Rolling Stones were two sides of the same coin, the heart of rock from the '60s onward. While the former have always been more stylistically eclectic, the latter have shown a greater orthodoxy towards the roots of rock, meaning the blues which is the foundation of all African American music, the music of the Twentieth Century. It's certain that at a certain point in the Stones' career, before starting one of their countless concerts, they were introduced by the speaker of the moment as "the greatest rock and roll band in all over the world." This bombastic definition, coined at the beginning of the '70s, came to mind precisely when last September I purchased the remixed deluxe version of "Goats Head Soup" (album recorded in 1973 of which I already had a vinyl copy) also inclusive of tasty outtakes and rarities. Not that this definition wasn't well-deserved by the group at the beginning of the '70s, but it is also true that with the release of "Goats Head Soup" something cracked in the group's magic aura after 10 years of intense and happy activity. But this very reissue, 47 years after the events, allows me a more thoughtful analysis of the work after the dust of the controversies has settled for a long time.

Undoubtedly, it is necessary to keep in mind the context of that period. At the very start of the '70s, the rock scene had been shaken by the announcement of the Beatles' breakup, the leading group of youthful music in the '60s. What better opportunity could present itself for the eternal seconds (namely the Rolling) to acquire the throne of primacy on the rock scene? Perhaps easy on paper, but in practice, rock was experiencing a very tumultuous phase, rich with names and surprises. The competition against the Rolling Stones was respectable and it wasn't just the evergreen Who, but groups like Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple were coming on strong, not to forget the entire realm categorized as progressive rock with ambitious bands of great appeal like (to name a few) Emerson, Lake and Palmer, Yes, Genesis, alongside glam rock represented by artists like David Bowie, Elton John, Lou Reed, and formations like T. Rex. As if this general scenario wasn't enough, we must remember the internal climate within the Rolings. After the death of Brian Jones in 1969 and his replacement with Mick Taylor (a guitarist with an elegant style but not comparable to Brian's role of a multi-instrumentalist), the band was living mostly for the great compositional skills of the Glimmer Twins, Mick Jagger, and Keith Richards. However, they were going through a particular phase: while the former was also absorbed by the then international jet set circles, the latter was taking great risks with the use and abuse of drugs (including heroin). The recording tests of the early '70s (from the live "Get yer ya-ya's out" to "Exile on Main St." and through "Sticky Fingers") still bore witness to the band's compositional grace, worthy of the myth. By the grace year of 1973 (after the triumphant tour in the USA of the previous year), the Rolling concentrated, as usual, on composing a new LP entitled "Goats Head Soup." My impression (the same one I had years ago listening to the vinyl) is that being in Jamaica to compose had overly relaxed the Rolling Stones, certainly not indifferent to the natural wonders of the area (sea with stunning colors shifting from crystal blue to turquoise green) and widely satisfied both for previous musical creations and the consequent financial gains (indeed, they were exiles from the UK where there was heavy taxation). Hence an album that is contradictory, characterized both by songs that are still worthy of such a group, and by tracks without any bite, enough to create doubt whether instead of the Rolling Stones there were their dull replicas in the recording room.

The opening track "Dancing with Mr. D" (an ambiguous title as D is the initial of both "devil" and "death") plunges us into a feverish and perverse voodoo ritual atmosphere, but the hints in the lyrics about poisons, skulls, and satanism seem over the top, as if the Stones wanted to press the theme of evil without reaching the exalted levels of "Sympathy for the Devil," a masterpiece of the year 1968. From here on, the compositions present an alternately thriving yield. Sometimes even starting well, they do not close as superbly. This is the case with "100 Years Ago," which well expresses the regret for the good old times (note well that at a certain point Mick sings "call me lazy bones ain't got no time to waste away," a kind of Freudian slip for someone as hyperactive as him) which constitutes a beautiful and sincere ballad supported by the keyboard texture of Billy Preston and a nice solo by Mick Taylor in the final part which, however, is faded (perhaps no one wanted to give too much space to the group's second guitarist?? Ironic as Keith was not at the top of his musical form due to his troubles with various hard drugs.). To find tracks worthy of the best Stones, one may as well switch to "Doo Doo doo (Heartbreaker)," whose lyrics provide an accurate description of the Yankee social malaise (police in New York with itchy trigger fingers then as now, drug-addicted girls found dead of overdoses in squalid suburban alleys) or tracks dipped in blues roots (and echoing certain atmospheres of "Exile on Main St.") like "Hide Your Love" or "Silver Train" (this one splendidly covered by Johnny Winter). Also, "Starfucker" shines for its call to the r'n'b style of Chuck Berry, one of the rock masters that the Stones learned from (the lyrics are decidedly pornographic and do not spare us the details of the erotic exploits of the protagonist, a groupie hunting for celebrities from the show business world). A spark of originality, finally, is found in another highly inspired ballad like "Winter," well-orchestrated and with a polished sound (a salient characteristic throughout the album, for this is in antithesis to the dirty and nasty sound present in "Exile on Main St."), apt in evoking a wintry atmosphere down in California, with Mick Jagger expressing the desire to embrace the beloved person to give and receive warmth (maybe in winter good Mick might present himself as a sort of Santa Claus, incredible but true). Very romantic without being excessive. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for songs like "Angie" (a weak ballad that makes you miss "Lady Jane" or "Ruby Tuesday," measured ballads in expressing a sentimental transport) or "Coming Down Again" (everyone knew that Keith Richards, beneath the tough rocker crust, has a romantic soul best expressed in "You Got the Silver" from the time of "Let It Bleed" but here it is too overloaded and it lingers and becomes too mawkish). It seems to me that in these episodes the Stones have gone overboard with saccharine, and the palette, even the musical one, gets too cloyed. Disappointing also is the track "Can You Hear the Music?" which should evoke the influence that music has on us listeners, but the composition doesn't move much, from nowhere it comes, and there it returns. In the remixed deluxe version on sale today, however, there is something interesting and new, and although "Scarlet," which boasts the collaboration of a guitarist like Jimmy Page, is not that captivating and enchanting, the same cannot be said for "All the Rage" and "Criss Cross," tracks with a pounding and devilish rhythm, enough to induce dancing even sleepy listeners, besides suggesting bewilderment at the fact they were discarded from the album's final tracklist. Probably, here lies the interpretative key of "Goats Head Soup" and of the Rolling Stones from this moment (1973) onwards: a band no longer in the role of the trailblazer of rock evolution but still capable of producing technically impeccable records (as if proceeding in autopilot mode). There would no longer be a reason to regret this as the innovative approach to rock and beyond moves on to others (and whoever, punk or not, wants to be the spokesperson for youthful anger, as the Rolling were at the time of "I can't get no satisfaction," will have a clear path...).