Let’s put an end to the nonsense over whether the last half-decent “Mick Taylor-era” Stones album, Goats Head Soup, or the first solid “return to form” Stones album, Some Girls, is better. The former couldn’t be more boiled down from the picked over bones of the Exile on Main Street era; the latter, upon its release, was of the here and now. Sure there was a good deal of 2-chord filler, but it reeked of late nights at Studio 54 and Truman Capote’s locomotive breath. The band sounded refreshed and committed to its mostly humble tunes. To boot, the album included the band’s best-crafted, Brazillian model pick-up single of the ’70s, one that actually managed to sound worth jumping into the sack over. We’ll get into the particulars of Some Girls in a bit. Let’s start with an initial shot at Goats Head Soup.

Jagger’s best solo album.

I’m not going to waste time. What’s Goats Head Soup‘s catchiest song, the horribly named “Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)”, but the 6th or 7th dip into the well that initially flowed from Let It Bleed‘s “Monkey Man” and “Live With Me”. Hell, it’s even got the brief Carlos Santana guitar interlude first used in “Can’t You Hear Me Knocking”! This song, possibly the best of the best-known songs from Goats Head Soup, is representative of the album’s self-satisfied, burned-out, proto-Classic Rock approach. This song was made for parking your Camaro near Pennypack Park to meet up with some buds for a kegger in the woods. This song is the rock equivalent of going home with the “other” girl you met in the bar, not the one you wanted to get to know better. Cheap! Wake up with her in the morning and all you’re left with is “Can You Hear the Music”.
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A few Townspeople have been bugging me to restate my opinion that The Rolling Stones’ Beggars Banquet is the worst of the great Stones albums. I’ve been holding off on doing this for a few reasons, including the following:

• I’ve been really busy and I don’t want to give this topic anything less than my full attention.
• I’m loathe to have to define “great Stones albums.”
• I’ve been really busy and haven’t wanted to waste any of my precious time on all those “blackface” acoustic, dusty porch-blues numbers that litter that album.

As I’ve fiddled, Rock Town Hall’s dugout has started to smoulder with dialog such as the following:

Townsman Hrrundi: What’s wrong with you, boy? I just gave “Beggars Banquet” a quick scan for a reality check, and I was right — it’s a stinker! It’s got a few strong — in one or two cases, crucially important — Stones tracks, but in general, the album is chock-a-block with the worst kind of pretendo-country/blues nonsense. Really. I’ll give you “Street Fighting Man” and “Stray Cat Blues” — those are songs where the Stones actually bring something unique and Stonesian to the table. But all those acoustic snoozers? Gimme a break! Music to clean the bong by!

Townsman Epluribusgergely: Beggar’s Banquet will never be an LP for your ears. Why? 1) It doesn’t have your beloved written and recorded at Sam Ash sound that Aerosmith too favored when they recorded their version of “Walkin’ the Dog.” 2) There’s an originality in the pseudo country blues numbers that you’re not hearing, i.e. taking Harry Smith anthology material and making it dirtier, ethics and style wise. 3) There’s an overall emphasis on acoustic instruments. And 4) They thought Bob Dylan was good…

Although I’m impressed by Hrrundi’s opening salvo, I can’t trust that this discussion will proceed toward the final, necessary point without my involvement, so let’s get it on!
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Over the years, as I’ve compared live recordings by The Rolling Stones to their classic studio recordings, I’ve suspected that the claim that Charlie Watts drummed on those studio albums is a hoax. It’s a damn, dirty lie! The guy sucks so bad live that the Stones must have been using studio drummers from their earliest days.

Let’s start with a look at one of the most distinctive beats in the history of rock. Which among the dozen archetypal rock beats attributed to Charlie Watts, you ask? How about the opening beat to “Honky Tonk Woman”.

Sure, there’s no denying that Charlie Watts is the drummer on this “live” performance of a Stones’ classic:

Judging by the fact that Jagger actually sings with his great tight-throated tone rather than his characteristic live bellow, the fact that the drumming sounds decent, and the fact that Watts doesn’t come close to faking the song’s wrap up, this is obviously one of those studio recordings with newly recorded vocals. In other words, Charlie Watts is drum-synching to the song like the rest of his bandmates. The jury’s out as to who’s actually drumming. I suspect some union guy associated with the BBC.

Now take a look at this performance of the same song, paying particular attention, if you can block out all the other poor performances, to the drums:

OK, that may not be fair. How about this one?

“Now you’re really messing with us, Mr. Mod! Everyone knows that’s not Charlie Watts and the Stones. It’s the legendary New Barbarians! What the hell are you up to?”
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Townswoman Citizen Mom, inspired by the taunting of Rock Town Hall’s anti-Ron Wood stance, decided to defend the band’s Tattoo You album. For fear of being excomunicated from the Halls of Rock, Citizen Mom originally published this piece in econoculture.com. After reassurances that any stance is worth taking on Rock Town Hall, she decided to come forward and share her views with us. For this, we thank you!

Journey with me, if you will, back to a time not so long ago – a time when The Rolling Stones were still a viable rock band, before they just started sending the fossilized remains out on tour every few years. Before Keith Richards had shit growing out of his hair, before Jerry Hall finally threw Mick out for good, before they had daughters tall and gorgeous enough to be the kind of women their fathers would date.

During that dusky time, between when the sun set on disco and rose on “Thriller” and hair metal, even a bunch of castoff tracks from previous Stones albums, slapped together with a few new numbers so the band could have something to promote on an upcoming world tour, could kick ass.

That time, my friends, was 1981, and the album was Tattoo You, also known as the Last Great Rolling Stones Record and the band’s last full-length release to hit #1 on the American charts. It’s pretty well buried under the mountain of undeserved rockist scorn, but there are some damn fine songs lurking between “Start Me Up” and “Waiting On a Friend,” the two wildly successful singles that bookend the album.

Still, the snitch keep snitchin’ and the bitches keep bitchin’, and when I pitched this piece to Econo, the response I got back from my editor went like this: “I dare you to defend that crap album. ‘Waiting on a Friend’ is great. But the rest — ugh. Do we really need to hear ‘Start Me Up’ ever again?”

Yeah, we’ve all heard “Start Me Up” a million times, but should its Awesome ’80s ubiquity doom the entire album? I blame this on that friggin’ bodysuit — you know what I’m talking about:

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