I think about a world to come where the books were found by the golden ones, written in pain, written in awe by a puzzled man who questioned, "What are we here for?" All the strangers came today and it looks as though they're here to stay.

-David Bowie "Oh! You Pretty Things"

Sunday, July 17, 2011

The Rolling Stones Sticky Fingers (1971: Rolling Stones)

1. "Brown Sugar" - 3:48
2. "Sway" - 3:50
3. "Wild Horses" - 5:42
4. "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" - 7:14
5. "You Gotta Move" - 2:32
6. "Bitch" - 3:38
7. "I Got the Blues" - 3:54
8. "Sister Morphine" - 5:31
9. "Dead Flowers" - 4:03
10. "Moonlight Mile" - 5:56

There is no stronger spit than that of a child for the things his or her parents love, and by all weights and measures known to humankind, I should hate the Rolling Stones with the cold embers of lasting passion.

For my entire life I've heard my dad in the kitchen singing at the top of his lungs. Today, it's "Brown Sugar." Tomorrow, "You Gotta Move." When we got him an iPod to keep the police off our porch and our money from going to the government on account of noise pollution charges, he began to sing his Stones louder. After all, he had to hear himself over the loud music issuing from the buds in his ears.

Sticky Fingers is my dad's favorite Rolling Stones album, and, against all odds, it has become mine as well. How could I last long against Sticky Fingers, with the guttural blues style of Exile on Mainstreet mixed with the pop sensibility of songs like "Satisfaction"? Mind you, it wasn't Keith Richards who won me over. At best, he's a serviceable guitarist, keen at mimicking the dirty blues riffs of his idols. No. It was Mick Jagger, the unlikely singer who grabs blues by the balls, embodying and innovating.

I have every reason to hate Sticky Fingers, but I love it. If there's nothing in there to convince you of the album's greatness, then I think you're beyond hope.

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