Skip to main contentSkip to navigationSkip to navigation
Mick Jagger performing with the Rolling Stones at Cobo Arena in Detroit, July 1972.
Mick Jagger performing with the Rolling Stones at Cobo Arena in Detroit, July 1972. Photograph: Leni Sinclair/Getty Images
Mick Jagger performing with the Rolling Stones at Cobo Arena in Detroit, July 1972. Photograph: Leni Sinclair/Getty Images

The Rolling Stones: Exile on Main St reviewed – archive, 1972

This article is more than 1 year old

20 May 1972: It will go down as their classic album, made at the height of the band’s musical powers and self-confidence

Relaxed and sunny, Mick Jagger went through the tracks on Exile on Main St with me the other day. The double album is about to be released (Rolling Stones records, COC 2-900). You know that the Sweet Black Angel (also the B-side of the Stones’ new single) is Angela Davis? he asked. In what sense? I said. We were set to play at home in France, he said. There was a poster of Angela on the wall, looking at us. So I wrote the song to her (or her image.) “She ain’t no singer, she ain’t no star,” Jagger sings, as the music zips and chimes behind him, celebrating the Stones’ companion song to Dylan’s George Jackson. What do you think about Angela Davis herself listening to the song? I asked. Mick ducked.

Stones’ songs are never more bizarre than what goes on in the world. There’s plenty of rough-and-tumble, hurdy-gurdy rock on the album. Rip This Joint is as confident a blast, with horns, as the band has ever played. This is followed by Shake Your Hips, faithfully rendering Slim Harpo, who Mick says he’s been listening to a lot, lately. “Do the hip shake thang,” he sings, with reverb. I Just Want to See His Face is the gospel number, with Clydie King making a joyful noise. These numbers sound like a band ready for the road, true? I asked. Oh, yeah, said Mick.

Other, slower tracks on the new album show off a depth and care in the Stones’ music. But there’s no loss of bite and drive. Let It Loose and Sweet Virginia are played as laments, and use silence. But Mick will never lose the sneer in his voice, or his obsession with mocking sentiment.

Rock suffers from half-measures, from prettiness, slack goodwill. Not so the Stones. Exile on Main St will go down as their classic album, made at the height of their musical powers and self-confidence.

Comments (…)

Sign in or create your Guardian account to join the discussion

Most viewed

Most viewed