"EXILE ON MAIN ST" (Rolling Stones Records COC69100) May 12th, 1972.
This record is famous for being famous. Tales of how it came to be recorded are fabled beyond the fantastical by Stones buffs, and retrospective appraisals of it can be relied upon to employ the word 'legendary' to describe some aspect of it's conception inside the first few sentences, eager to crack on and regale the reader with the legendary tale of how it was all made in Keith's cellar in France with electricity stolen from the railway lines and that at least a dozen people were present at every session just to keep Keith and Anita in smack. Of course, not all of this is true. Some of it was recorded in California. A very detailed and entertaining account of most of what went on during that summer and winter of 1971 at Keith's big white house, 'Nellcote' in Villefranche Sur Mer can be read in the book written by "Spanish" Tony Sanchez, "Up And Down With The Rolling Stones". Tony was Keith's 'personal assistant' during this period, and the pair were practically inseparable. As Keith's PA, Tony naturally got to witness at first hand the creation of this legendary rock and roll record. He also enjoyed many opportunities to meet incoming boats at Marseilles docks at midnight, whilst carrying one of Keith's collection of fine, unlicensed firearms. A great deal of Tony's book is shocking (not least of which is his story of how he and Keith sat next to each other at Brian Jones' funeral) but nobody could deny; it's bloody compelling. Guns and drugs and fiddling the 'leccy meter, and we've not heard a note struck yet. No wonder this album is famous and legendary.
On it's release, reviews were not mixed and they were not lukewarm. They were uniformly cold, disapproving and far from chummy, particularly among the British 'inkies', long the champions and defenders of the Stones, now seemingly in the huff because they weren't to be found hanging around in London and were therefore thoroughly unreliable sources of free drugs. The letters page of the NME was crammed for weeks with demands for the editor to phone the Stones immediately and inform them that everybody had always liked Led Zeppelin better anyway. The Stones were never again to be awarded 'Single Of The Week'. Not even for an ironic joke. Bill Wyman cancelled his subscription to 'Sounds'. With the music press decrying the album as 'incoherent', 'sprawling', 'full of country and western music and no good tunes' and, most damning of all 'a bit pricey', they bolstered the general lambasting the Stones were taking from the popular press, who suspected that they hadn't left the UK for tax purposes at all, and had gone to France to get more drugs and a bit of a tan.
They were, of course, all wrong. It's a brilliant album. Arguably the best they (or any other rock and roll turn) ever made. It's seamless; offering no hint at it's convoluted and mildly hysterical creation. Everything about it; the title, the cover, the songs, the musicianship are perfect. The distance it covers and the pace at which it does so are breathtaking. Everybody loves it. Mick Jagger thinks it's OK, but that a lot of it is mixed wrong. He was quoted in 2002 as having said "I'd love to remix it". He very noticeably hasn't and most definitely shouldn't. How could it be improved upon? It sounds like that because that's what "Exile On Main St" sounds like, Mick. We like it and we're grateful.
Across 18 numbers, for an hour and a bit, you can hear The Rolling Stones getting in tune, becoming what they are famous for being capable of, finally completing their blueprint for what we know now as 'rock music'. The advent of the CD makes it much easier now to listen to how they re-interpret Robert Johnson's "Stop Breaking Down" 10 times in succession and still be at a loss as to how and why it is just so brilliant. It just is. It's like a force of nature. Also, I defy any listener to remain unmoved as "Ventilator Blues" subsides into "I just Want To See His Face". Indescribable. Conversely, it's remarkable how many fans cite "I Just Want To See His Face" as their favourite Stones number, when it's so brief and simple and vague and obscure and.....somehow vacant but alert..like it's warning while welcoming while worrying and too tired to be angry, but....It is great, mind you. You should hear it. It goes "That's all right", and then it goes "Stand up and be counted" and then it kind of makes a sort of.....truth is, I can't figure out what it does, but it does. You find yourself putting "Ventilator Blues" on a lot, just so you can wait for it to do it again.
This is a record which I'd recommend to anyone who wants to hear how rock and roll music is conceived and executed.
Other/Related: Cover concept by Robert Frank, who also directed "Cocksucker Blues". Original issue of album included set of 12 'postcards', featuring photographs taken by Norman Seeff.
This record is famous for being famous. Tales of how it came to be recorded are fabled beyond the fantastical by Stones buffs, and retrospective appraisals of it can be relied upon to employ the word 'legendary' to describe some aspect of it's conception inside the first few sentences, eager to crack on and regale the reader with the legendary tale of how it was all made in Keith's cellar in France with electricity stolen from the railway lines and that at least a dozen people were present at every session just to keep Keith and Anita in smack. Of course, not all of this is true. Some of it was recorded in California. A very detailed and entertaining account of most of what went on during that summer and winter of 1971 at Keith's big white house, 'Nellcote' in Villefranche Sur Mer can be read in the book written by "Spanish" Tony Sanchez, "Up And Down With The Rolling Stones". Tony was Keith's 'personal assistant' during this period, and the pair were practically inseparable. As Keith's PA, Tony naturally got to witness at first hand the creation of this legendary rock and roll record. He also enjoyed many opportunities to meet incoming boats at Marseilles docks at midnight, whilst carrying one of Keith's collection of fine, unlicensed firearms. A great deal of Tony's book is shocking (not least of which is his story of how he and Keith sat next to each other at Brian Jones' funeral) but nobody could deny; it's bloody compelling. Guns and drugs and fiddling the 'leccy meter, and we've not heard a note struck yet. No wonder this album is famous and legendary.
On it's release, reviews were not mixed and they were not lukewarm. They were uniformly cold, disapproving and far from chummy, particularly among the British 'inkies', long the champions and defenders of the Stones, now seemingly in the huff because they weren't to be found hanging around in London and were therefore thoroughly unreliable sources of free drugs. The letters page of the NME was crammed for weeks with demands for the editor to phone the Stones immediately and inform them that everybody had always liked Led Zeppelin better anyway. The Stones were never again to be awarded 'Single Of The Week'. Not even for an ironic joke. Bill Wyman cancelled his subscription to 'Sounds'. With the music press decrying the album as 'incoherent', 'sprawling', 'full of country and western music and no good tunes' and, most damning of all 'a bit pricey', they bolstered the general lambasting the Stones were taking from the popular press, who suspected that they hadn't left the UK for tax purposes at all, and had gone to France to get more drugs and a bit of a tan.
They were, of course, all wrong. It's a brilliant album. Arguably the best they (or any other rock and roll turn) ever made. It's seamless; offering no hint at it's convoluted and mildly hysterical creation. Everything about it; the title, the cover, the songs, the musicianship are perfect. The distance it covers and the pace at which it does so are breathtaking. Everybody loves it. Mick Jagger thinks it's OK, but that a lot of it is mixed wrong. He was quoted in 2002 as having said "I'd love to remix it". He very noticeably hasn't and most definitely shouldn't. How could it be improved upon? It sounds like that because that's what "Exile On Main St" sounds like, Mick. We like it and we're grateful.
Across 18 numbers, for an hour and a bit, you can hear The Rolling Stones getting in tune, becoming what they are famous for being capable of, finally completing their blueprint for what we know now as 'rock music'. The advent of the CD makes it much easier now to listen to how they re-interpret Robert Johnson's "Stop Breaking Down" 10 times in succession and still be at a loss as to how and why it is just so brilliant. It just is. It's like a force of nature. Also, I defy any listener to remain unmoved as "Ventilator Blues" subsides into "I just Want To See His Face". Indescribable. Conversely, it's remarkable how many fans cite "I Just Want To See His Face" as their favourite Stones number, when it's so brief and simple and vague and obscure and.....somehow vacant but alert..like it's warning while welcoming while worrying and too tired to be angry, but....It is great, mind you. You should hear it. It goes "That's all right", and then it goes "Stand up and be counted" and then it kind of makes a sort of.....truth is, I can't figure out what it does, but it does. You find yourself putting "Ventilator Blues" on a lot, just so you can wait for it to do it again.
This is a record which I'd recommend to anyone who wants to hear how rock and roll music is conceived and executed.
Other/Related: Cover concept by Robert Frank, who also directed "Cocksucker Blues". Original issue of album included set of 12 'postcards', featuring photographs taken by Norman Seeff.
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