Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: rolling stones (page 1 of 4)

In Which I Perform A Service For The Community, And Not Even Cuz A Judge Told Me To

I repeat myself: the Rolling Stones’ unreleased material is better than 99% of other bands’ actual records. Here’s all I could find on YouTube.



Sticky Fingers:


It’s only rockyroll, kids:

Some Girls gimme money:

Some Girls gimme gold:

Suckin’ in the 80’s

Suckin’ in the 80’s (and 90’s!):


The First Cut Is The Deepest…

…unless it’s this, Man Ray’s attempt at a cover for Exile on Main Street. Mick took one look and started calling his fancy friends to see if anyone wanted the job.

Look how little effort he put in! Was Man Ray secretly in the Grateful Dead?

It’s Unreleased Covers Night!

No, it isn’t.

It is. Big holiday. Schools are off, and tuggers are half-priced down at Slappy’s.

Stop it.

Check your calendar. And then get your ass down to Slappy’s.

You’re a liar, and everyone hates you.

Doesn’t change the facts on the ground, mojambo.

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other


  1. Highway Child
  2. Criss Cross Man
  3. Jiving Sister Fanny
  4. Living In The Heart Of Love
  5. Get Yourself Together
  6. For Your Precious Love
  7. Drift Away
  8. Cocaïne Blues
  9. Travelin’ Man
  10. Potted Shrimp
  11. Stuck Out All Alone
  12. Hillside Blues (I Don’t Know The Reason Why)

How Can I Miss You When You Won’t Stop Jamming?

Only thing better than eleven minutes of Disco Stones is twelve minutes of Disco Stones.

Oh, Help Him

Please, doctor. He’s damaged.

Get better, Mick. We need you here.

Broadcasting Live From The Problem Attic…

In honor of Billy’s new digs.

Thoughts On Their Satanic Majesties Request (In Real Time)

Enthusiasts, my ignorance runs deep. Never before had I listened to Their Satanic Majesties Request; as a younger man, I recall seeing the album cover and thinking “That’s gonna suck.” It was the Stones’ answer to Sgt. Pepper and it was all swirly and gooey and, like, we really mixed it for the headphones, man. Or so goes its reputation. Big-time novelist and Times columnist Jennifer Finney Boylan advises that Fillmore South give the ’67 release a shot.

So this is her fault.

Sing This All Together

  • What is this now?
  • Why, please?
  • Incorrect.
  • Incorrect and unacceptable.
  • Rolling Stones records start with guitars.
  • Oh, they produced this to within an inch of its life, didn’t they?
  • Really used the studio as an instrument.
  • Whenever the band said shit like that, it meant that shit was gonna pop up in your left ear, and then your right.
  • If they wanted to call the song Sing This All Together, they should have written a better song.
  • Harmless.


  • Oh, don’t do this.
  • You heard the San Francisco bands, didn’t you, Rolling Stones?
  • Is there gonna be a sitar solo?
  • It’s a sitar kinda song.
  • Wait.
  • Right ear.
  • That’s a mellotron, isn’t it?
  • Ladies and gentlemen, we have a mellotron sighting.
  • Real bands had mellotrons.
  • Eh.

In Another Land

  • You’re kidding me.
  • This is a joke.
  • This is a Spinal Tap outtake.
  • I’m staggered, Rolling Stones.
  • What were you thinking?
  • Bill Wyman doesn’t get to write songs, and he certainly doesn’t get to sing them.
  • Was it the acid?
  • This was 1967, and you were famously getting groovy.
  • Did the acid make you think that all men are brothers or some shit like that?
  • That doesn’t apply to Bill Wyman.
  • He’s an immobile pederast.
  • You wouldn’t give poor Mick Taylor a writing credit, but you let Bill Wyman fucking sing?
  • What kind of monsters are you, Rolling Stones?
  • And a fucking harpsichord.
  • Thumbs downward.

2000 Man

  • I know this one.
  • KISS did it better.
  • Swear to God, man.

  • Just rock the fucker out, Rolling Stones.
  • Be more like KISS.
  • Yell at your instruments.
  • Holler at the drums.
  • Cuff the song about.
  • Never sneak up on a tune, Rolling Stones; they spook easy.
  • The year 2000 stood for the future for a very long time, Younger Enthusiast.
  • Why would you play this song this way?
  • It’s like they couldn’t decide between four different arrangements, and so they used all of them.
  • Pick a groove!
  • You are not a prog band, Rolling Stones.
  • Decide on a rhythm and play the whole song in that rhythm.
  • I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

Sing This All Together (See What Happens)

  • That title is not reassuring.
  • Yup.
  • Oh, no, not the musique concrete.
  • Goddammit.
  • Oh, fuck the 60’s.
  • Every damned band had one of these.
  • The sound collage: it was so trippy, man.
  • Oh, no, Rolling Stones.
  • Leave this to Pink Floyd.
  • Do not.
  • Do not this.
  • And a sudden tape splice cut.
  • Because of course a sudden tape splice cut.
  • What did Charlie Watts think of all this?
  • I know what Ian Stewart thought of it.
  • “Load o’ shite, then.”
  • Thank you, Stu.
  • Goddammit, drugs.
  • Stop making bands record this song.
  • Every time you come along: boom.
  • The sound collage.
  • It is rude of you, drugs.
  • Ooh, pretty horns.
  • Back to awful.
  • Stop doing this, please.
  • You’re not fooling anyone, Rolling Stones.
  • This is not who you are.
  • Is that a flute?
  • What the fuck, guys?
  • You charged people for this shit?
  • This is that Boylan woman’s fault.
  • Look it me, I write for the lying, failing New York Times.
  • I blame her.
  • The fuck did I ever do to her?
  • Nothing.
  • And now I have to listen to this pigshit.
  • Y’know what?
  • Fuck her; I’m burning her house down.
  • Actually: fuck that, I’m burning all of your houses down.
  • By the time the sun comes up, all of you will be hobos.
  • I’m house-burnin’ angry.
  • Arson is in the cards.
  • Stop this. Tell the people you’re joking.
  • They’ll find that…song’s over.
  • Discuss this–

She’s A Rainbow

  • like a man.
  • Ooh, I love this song.
  • Ahem.
  • You followed me into the next song?
  • Apparently.
  • Creepy.
  • Nicky Hopkins on piano, ladies and gentlemen.
  • And John Paul Jones on the string arrangements.
  • It’s less entertaining when I like the track.
  • I’m just gonna listen to this shit.
  • NO.
  • STOP.
  • Okay, Rolling Stones, we need to have a chat.
  • Pull up your chairs and lounge upon them rebelliously.

The Lantern

  • Rolling Stones, just be yourselves.
  • Write drug boogies.
  • Ballads about being dirty.
  • But not whatever it is you think you’re doing here.
  • Stop trying to sound like you’re on drugs and sound like you’re on drugs.
  • People don’t like to mention it, but the Stones’ golden era perfectly coincided with Keith’s first major heroin addiction.
  • You get a couple good years.
  • After that, you repeat yourself, but artists take drugs for reasons.
  • Maaaaaaan.
  • What was I just listening to?


  • Gomper?
  • Another distressing song title.
  • I just have no faith in it.
  • What is this shit?
  • Fuck you, this shit.
  • No, no, this is not what you wanted to put on the album.
  • Fuck me, is that a tabla?
  • Of course it’s a fucking tabla.
  • Who allowed this?
  • I want names.
  • Someone signed off on this, and I want their names.
  • Heads are gonna roll, mister.
  • Ah, fuck, now Brian Jones is playing recorder.
  • As if life weren’t rough enough.
  • Y’know what?
  • This is why Trump won.
  • All of this is Jennifer Boylan’s fault, and she caused Trump.
  • Stop playing now.
  • Oh, God, they won’t fade out.
  • STOP IT.

2000 Light Years From Home

  • This is another joke.
  • Right?
  • Spinal Tap did a whole album of unreleased stuff and this is one of them?
  • And they’re doing the shit where stuff gets louder and softer and kill me now.
  • NO.
  • Whooshy noises.
  • The riff is spiffy, but it’s surrounded by nonsense.
  • Like Ron Jeremy’s penis.
  • The penis is great.
  • But everything it’s attached to is a nightmare.
  • That’s what the 2000 Light Years riff is.
  • Hmm, two songs on the record with “2000” in the title.
  • I bet that spawned innumerable idiotic conversations.

On With The Show

  • What?
  • No.
  • This is…
  • No.
  • This is The Faces’ bit.
  • Like…Music Hall?
  • Is that what they call this?
  • I want it to cease.
  • Goddammit, there’s no Rolling Stones in my Rolling Stones record.
  • This is fraudulent.
  • This is fraudacious.
  • I won’t stand for it.
  • Never again will I make fun of the Stones playing the blues.
  • Better than whatever this is.
  • Never again.
  • That phrase is no longer about the Holocaust.
  • It’s about Their Satanic Majesties Request.
  • Jesus, I forgot to talk about what a dumb name that is.
  • Ah, well.

Mick Shares The Mic

I just assume every attractive woman ever photographed with Mick has banged him. Why wouldn’t you? That’s one you tell your grandkids about.

“Wook, it’s Winda Wonstadt.”

You would be so interesting to talk to if you knocked it off with the accent.

“Yaw th’ one wivva ak-sent. Oi speak wivva Queen’s Engwish, Oi do.”

You’re unbearable.


Who thought Linda was Mick for a couple seconds? They’ve got the same haircut, and Mick would absolutely wear her outfit.

O, those celebrities and their lithe thighs.

“Oi have no idea ‘oo this is.”

Carrie Underwood.

“Oi would.”

Well done. You just do these duets so you have a chance to hit on these women, right?

“An’ cross-demographic marketin’ concerns, but mostly you’re right.”

Good to know. Her name is Carrie and don’t mention American Idol.


No one needed to scroll down and find this. It was wrong of me to include in the post. Your anger is justified, and I suggest you take your business to some other Grateful Dead-themed website that goes weeks without mentioning the Dead. I’m ashamed of myself.

I can make this right.

Y’know, thinking about it: Keith’s cock does not make it right. I don’t know why I originally believed it would. Again: all of this is my fault. You shouldn’t have to sit through such silliness. You’re better than this.

Careful, Mick. I think she’s a druid or something.

“Utter bosh, that is. Wuv-wee wedhead.”

What if you just imitated an American accent?

“Well, hello dere. I be–”

NOT A BLACK AMERICAN ACCENT! It’s not 1971 anymore, man.

“We ‘ad sev’ral numbah one ‘its where Oi pretended t’ be a black man.”

I know them all by heart, but still.


Think? Think about what?

“No, I wuz callin’ you a fink.”


Several Photos Of Mick Jagger, With Commentary Thereupon

“Wook at me giant sungwasses.”

Is there any way I can get you to speak without your accent?

“You don’ loik me ak-sent?”

Now you’re leaning into it.

“You evuh b’n to Baaaa-wee?”


“Baaa-wee. The ay-wind.”

The island of Bali.

“Whot Oi said, mate.”

I’ve never been to Bali.

“It’s wuv-wee.”

We’re gonna keep the dialogues to a minimum.

This was 1981. The first all-stadium tour, and an all-daytime tour, too. It was cheaper to play in the afternoon–you didn’t need to tote your lighting rig around the country, for one thing–and so some of the gigs began as early as noon. The Rolling Stones did not employ a Jumbotron, and so Mick dressed this way in an effort to be seen. You’re not meant to look at this outfit up close. It’s made to be viewed from Section 322 of Soldier Field.

There’s no excuse for the quality men’s hosiery. I’m gonna call that shade “peach.”

The ’81 American tour–they didn’t bother naming it, like they would later productions–was 50 shows in 80 days and in addition to being the first all-stadium tour, it was the first sponsored tour in Rock history. Jovan Musk ponied up for the right to say, I don’t know, “Instead of showering, Ronnie Wood sprays his taint with Jovan Musk.” Something like that.

This was also Bobby Keys’ first appearance with the Stones in eight years. He had grown so close to the band during the late 60’s and early 70’s that he began to think himself a Rolling Stone. But Bobby Keys was not a Rolling Stone, and so having room service bring up enough Dom Perignon to fill the bathtub was a poor choice. Bobby was put in a cab and sent to the airport. Mick’s direct orders. The help needs to know its place. But Bobby wasn’t wicked, just excitable, and everyone missed him, so he came back in ’81 and didn’t leave again until his death in 2014.

Keith may be going to jail, but he’s not going without his scarf. There are also, if history is our guide, nine or ten other scarfs secreted on his person. And then there’s Mick.

“You woik me wuffles?”

I told you not to talk.

“Wook at me hawwwwse.”

Goddammit. Nice horse, I guess.

“‘E’s named Waffles.”


“No, Waffles. After th’ gentleman-thief.”

Oh, Raffles.

“Wight. Waffles.”

I’m, like, 85% sure this joke doesn’t work in print.


Stop that!

  1. Mick’s skinnier than she is.
  2. Mick made a run at her. Mick hit on her, Mick hit on her hard, and for all we know Mick got in there. The fact that she’s “America’s Sweetheart” or whatever only made Mick try harder.

This is the Steel Wheels tour in ’89, and Mick is wearing a toppermost. This was their first tour since ’81; they had spent the past eight years sniping at one another in the press and making poor albums, but now the Stones were back, baby. The biggest concert tour in history, and also a new record which wasn’t too bad. (Legacy acts can hit the road without a record now, and the Dead always did, but the Stones needed a new album to promote.)

Did I say big?

You see the rightmost spire, the one that gets cut off at the top? The FAA made ’em put a flashing red light on it, because otherwise planes would crash into the Rolling Stones. The stage was 280 feet across and weighed 180 tons, requiring twelve trucks to haul.

You made those numbers up.

I did.


I don’t care exactly how big a fucking stage was in 1989, and no one else should, either.

Yeah, okay.

A reminder: this is how the band performed in 1976:

I’m sorry, but I must drop into bullet points for this bullshit.

  • What are you doing, Billy Preston?
  • Oh, no, Billy Preston.
  • Do not.
  • Do not that.
  • If you performed on a stage that shape nowadays, conspiracies would abound.
  • It folded up.
  • And opened when the show started, the band hidden within.
  • Like a flower.
  • You may guess as to whether or not it worked perfectly every night.
  • You may also guess as to how the fuck anyone on that stage heard anyone else.

But this might be the stage that most succinctly sums up the band:

This is the A Bigger Bang tour, which lasted from 2005 to 2007; Mick achieved the Full Jagger on this endeavor. The Stones had always sold every part of the animal. First, there is the Product. Cannot have a Promotional Tour without a Product. Then there are tickets, and if you are willing to pay more for better seats and/or access to the band, then the band is willing to allow you the freedom to do so. At the concert, you may buy souvenirs Byzantine in their variety, but spartan in their branding: the Rolling Stones will slap those fucking lips on anything. Yes, the Dead is bad about slapping Stealies on shit, but no one beats the Stones for licensing their iconography to janky crap.


Anyway, while you could purchase any Stones-branded tchotchke you desired, you could not bootleg the show. This is an old Stones rule–an old everyone-in-Rock-and-Roll-except-the-Dead rule, to be precise–because it was believed bootlegging cut into official revenues and confused the teens. If the kids were gonna buy a live album, it would come from us, the Stones thought, and so there’s been a live release for every one of their tours; they’ve all been deadly except for Get Your Ya-Yas Out.

And a movie, too. Gimme Shelter (the one where someone died)and Let’s Spend The Night Together (the one Hal Ashby directed)and At The Max (the one in IMAX format) and Shine A Light (the one Scorsese directed) and Ladies and Gentlemen, the Rolling Stones (the one they played the best in) and bunch of others.

That was it. Nothing else to sell, right?

Look again:

Do you see where Mick found more money yet? Do you have it?

I’ll help:

Mick sold off the damn stage. Good for you, Mick.

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