It's Life and Life Only

 

"Oh Carol" and "Little Queenie" - The Rolling Stones

Well I'm back and intact -- the junk remains inviolate.  (For those of you who must endure redeyes in coach, let me recommend a cocktail of two gin and tonics and two Ambien -- about an hour into an eight hour flight I drained the second G&T, knocked down the Ambien and the next thing I knew we were circling Chicago -- pure flying bliss.)

Speaking of junk of a different sort, I just finished up "Life" by Keith Richards on my previous flight.  He was a lively travel companion I must say.

A few thoughts on the book and the somewhat improbable life it recounts -- improbable in large part simply because it continues to this day, sixty-seven plus years into the gig.  And that's one of the things that strikes you early on in the book -- that Keith Richards, born in Dartford, just outside of London while World War II raged, was a child of a very different world than those of us born fifteen to twenty years later, especially those of us born in the U.S., a place virtually unscarred by the War.  Richards early memories include walking in still bomb-ruined parts of greater London, of a world still marked by rationing and privation.  I tend to think that the excesses of Richards and his musical cohorts stem in part from this very circumscribed world in which they were born, a place of both material scarcity and a kind of muted emotional palette.  Richards was, amusingly enough, both a boy scout and a choir boy.  But not for long.    

It's a remarkable tale really.  A young English boy of exceedingly modest means and prospects, falls in love with the guitar and the blues of black Americans -- not because there was a career in it, but just because.  He is obsessed and falls in with a group of similar obsessives, including his former Dartford elementary school mate, Mick Jagger.  They practice and practice and practice some more, eventually getting to play live in London for laughably little, if any, money.  (Interestingly, Richards meticulously recorded both the dates and places of the gigs and the payments, modest though they were.)  And then, in an insanely short time, the Rolling Stones were an international phenomenon, following on the heels of the Beatles (who also inspired Richards and Jagger to become songwriters). 

The most striking thing about the book -- after all the drugs ingested, the arrests made, the prison terms narrowly averted, and the dirt dealt -- is the seriousness that Richards brings to music.  It is a passion that seemingly remains undimmed to this day, the deep desire to unlock the sounds in his head, to play guitar and lead a band.  Everything else, the money (made and lost), the fame, the women, and yes, the drugs, are, at best, secondary.  Indeed, the drugs -- and there are shit tons of them -- seem less recreational than vocational to some substantial degree.  Richards relies on a mind boggling regimen of heroin and cocaine -- pure Merck pharmaceutical cocaine if you must know (a great endorsement deal just waiting for our legal system to lighten up) -- to give him both the patience and endurance to extract those precious sounds, the riffs and rhythms, the weaving guitars, the whip crack drums, the raucous horns, the rollicking piano -- everything that made the Stones the greatest band in the world for an astonishingly fecund five years from the release of Beggar's Banquet through Exile on Main Street, the latter being the culmination of, and perhaps the breaking point, associated with Richards' drug-fueled, sleep deprived, writing and recording style.

Thereafter, the drugs, arrests, and fame lead to diminishing artistic returns, although the passion to play remains. The Stones continue to undertake periodic mega-stadium tours and make a fortune while so doing (after ending their peak years in near penury), although the new music produced over the last thirty or so years is rarely memorable.  The songs from the late 60s-early 70s golden age remain the core of the play list -- one senses that like many veteran rock and roll writers, Richards and Jagger just don't have the juice left to produce a full album's worth of memorable material, where once the songs flowed effortlessly, almost unconsciously.

Much has been made of Richards talking trash about Jagger.  And it's true -- the book has a series of snipes at Jagger, implying that he is a shameless social climber, a poseur, an egomaniac, and, the greatest of sins in Richards' view, not fully loyal.  One gets the sense of a deeply complicated relationship -- a nearly fifty year marriage between difficult personalities filled with all kinds of hurt and betrayals (each slept with the others significant other -- something that still seems to rankle Richards forty years later), and yet an irrevocable, and, mutually dependent, bond.  My favorite take on this part of the book is this fictional reply that appeared in Slate drafted by the ironically named Bill Wyman.  (Bass player Bill Wyman is also the subject of Richards' scorn -- only Watts is spared.)  I am struck by Richards lack of perspective and gratitude with respect to Jagger who tended to business when Richards was incapable of it, in such a way that Richards is a very wealthy man today; and sprung to Richards' defense and mobilized resources whenever (and it was quite frequent) legal problems threatened to send him to jail. 

Richards is frank in the book without always being insightful.  He doesn't seem to fully grasp how difficult it might be to work with someone whose drug dependency is so profound that he is habitually, impossibly late, peridoically burns his house or hotel room to the ground, not to mention the air of legal jeopardy that surrounds him.  Friends and associates follow him into addiction and, in some cases, self-destruction -- Gram Parsons, producer Jimmy Miller, engineer Andy Johns, paramour Anita Pallenberg, even Charlie Watts for a time -- with little recognition by Richards of any possible culpability.  He also has the disconcerting habit of referring to women as bitches (although he prides himself on not being a compulsive groupie puller, unlike Wyman) and dropping the odd homophobic remark, usually in snide reference to Jagger (e.g. "Brenda" or "her majesty").

In the end, most of us fans will be inclined to forgive Richards for his trespasses -- because of the pleasure of the tunes he has written, the sheer enthusiasm he brings to the music, his rapscallion's charm, and, hell, out of sheer admiration for his survival.  It's a pretty fun read, one which I would imagine would be even more rewarding for a musician (love to have mhb's input on this one). 

[I love this clip of the Stones in 1969 performing two Chuck Berry songs, showing what a tight band they were and how naturally compelling Jagger was, before he became a bit of a self-parody playing stadium shows -- it's interesting to see how compact the band was -- Richards is almost rooted to Watts throughout and everyone, except Jagger, are but a few feet from one another.  I fear this will be one of a series of Richards related youtube posts -- I hate to go to heavy on the nostalgia, but they were, in fact, that good.]

Comments

[Krubozumo Nyankoye]

SC - nice to have something light to talk about, heroin addiction, in particular. Ironically, I was sent this book by DHL so it arrive in good time and I have actually read it. Myself I am not very musical, I have dabbled with the piano and can play some of the romantic classics but a piano is not something you can carry around with you. I have known a guitarist or two as well but that was some time past.

I don't disagree particularly with any of the things you have said about it but I have a different perspective perhaps, I was just pleased to have the insights that were offered. I think the book is a bit too prone to stringing anecdotes into necklaces of pearls and bottle caps, but then Keef does not seem to think he is even that good a guitarist, let alone a writer so I can pardon that.

The stones have perfected an act and they can perform it to perfection. I too wish that the creative spark could be revived but I think that may be a forelorn hope. If so I also think it is understandable. At least in terms of the group dynamics.

I enjoyed the book. I have already shipped it off to the next name on the read list.

I remember that in about 1986 or so, give or take two years either way, I was in Monrovia, Liberia and went out with some of my "boys". We went into a street bar not far from the presidential palace and I gave a stones tape to the barkeep to put on his system. He cranked it to the max and within 30 minutes there were about 500 people in the street dancing and singing to the tunes.

What a long strange trip it was...

[kathy a.]

wow, KN -- what a memory!

SC, this sounds like such an interesting book, warts and all. and i'm intrigued by your thoughts about the 50 year "marriage," and frankness that misses insight. not to focus on the negative -- everyone loves the stones, and they are still around, and it is an amazing story, how they came to be.

[Calvin Jones and the 13th Apostle]

He also has the disconcerting habit of referring to women as bitches (although he prides himself on not being a compulsive groupie puller, unlike Wyman) and dropping the odd homophobic remark, usually in snide reference to Jagger (e.g. "Brenda" or "her majesty").

Do you really think Richards is a homophobe? Or is it just how Richards refers to people? I know some people call have a term for Mitch McConnell that begins with Miss and I wouldn't consider those who use it homophobes.

[corvus9]

I am not remotely surprised Keef left Watts alone. From what else I have read, everyone else in the band basically looked up to Charlie, because with the exception of his foray into Heroin addiction (which he got over) he never seemed to be falling apart like all the other guys in the band were.

No arguments on the bracketing of the best Stones albums. Beggar's through Exile is definately their key period, and I am not even sure you are wrong to proclaim them the greatest band in the world for that period. I mean, Beggar's Banquet might just be tighter (though not as all-encompassing) than the White Album, and Let It Bleed (my favorite) is definitely better than Let It Be, and maybe even Abbey Road (Abbey Road is better than Sticky Fingers, though). However, The Who were still a better live band during that period (at least from the recorded evidence). The Rolling Stones were an amazingly tight musical act, but the Who were a force of nature.

[minstrel hussain boy]

i loves me some keef.

he's a good egg.

[joel hanes]

The Stones were sensational at the Bloom County prom.

[litbrit]

My Stones memory:

After college, in 1981, I worked as an assistant to a Florida concert promoter. About three months into my new job, we put on the stadium show of the decade (in my humble opinion), namely Van Halen opening for The Rolling Stones.

I got to shake Mick's hand, after saying "How do you do?"--I mean, what on earth does one say to Mick Freaking Jagger? Hey man, I really love your music? Do you miss England as much as I do? *NOT*

And I saw the elegant, towering Jerry Hall from the other side of the monstrous stage, and I saw Keith, too, as he upended a bottle of Jack Daniels and drank until it was half-gone. When he took the stage shortly thereafter, there was a fresh bottle a few inches from his feet.

Keith missed his cue on She's My Little Rock 'n Roll and sort of scrambled the intro. It was bad enough that even a non-musician could catch it.

But that was the only glitch. He was otherwise thrilling to watch, and I am beyond grateful that this paradigm-shifting group of icons came to my then-hometown (Orlando) because I left the show--my one and only live Stones experience--an utterly changed person.

C, I read that Keith's wife, Patti, recently endured a horrible bout of bladder cancer; she writes that Keith, despite his tough, macho-rocker image, was the family member who totally crumbled with panic, crying like a baby when she told him the horrible news and, thereafter, bursting into tears on a moment's notice (she's in remission and doing well). Does he discuss Patti at all in the books? She was one of my favorite models, back in the day--a role model, if you will, rebelling against the whole super-fit gym-bunny Christie Brinkley ethos that was the thing back then. Everyone wanted to hire a "Christie Brinkley type", whereas Patti was more the leather-jeans-wearing, dark-eyeliner-sporting, late-to-bed and late-to-rise type. As was I. ;-)

[Sir Charles]

Calvin,

I don't think he is a homophobe or a misogynist. I was just pointing out that his use of language can be unfortunate and probably reflects his age and origins. (In other words, even people who were the living embodiment of hipness can come to seem archaic over time.) He refers to Mick's New York club friends as "faggots" as well.

Corvus,

Keith refers to Watts in the book as the "bed on which I lay down musically" -- if you watch the clips of the Stones in this era, he stays very close to Watts almost all of the time.

The Who were an awfuly compelling live act as well -- the Stones musical output during this period was so insanely good that I would give them the nod.

I think you will find his discussions of John Lennon pretty intersting too -- I think Richards is bemused by the notion of Lennon as some kind of zen god, when Keith indicates that he basically never left his house other than utterly horizontal. He was a substance abuser of pretty mammoth proporations in his own right. (I also am going to post a video clip that you will love.)

D.,

As I was noting to Calvin, I think Keith is actually someone who genuinely likes women despite his extremely rough edges. He is obviously in love with Patti and I think somewhat in awe of the fact that she tolerates him. His description of his initial meeting with her family -- complete with personal bottle of Jack Daniels -- is cringe inducing.

He also is reasonably kind about Anita Pallenberg, who one senses was even more nightmarish than Keith as a junkie. And he's very sentimental about some other lovers, most notably Ronnie Specter.

[Sir Charles]

Joel,

I forgot about that series of strips. Loved the Jagger drawings.

[Calvin Jones and the 13th Apostle]

Sir Charles:
Does Keef mention Chuck Berry in his book? I ask because I remember seeing the Chuck Berry documentary where Keef is tagged with leading the back up band to some Chuck Berry tribute thing, which Chuck was a part of. Richards had some very interesting things to say about Chuck and how he thought Chuck and Mick were assholes, but assholes he loved like brothers(not the exact quote .. but paraphrasing). And watching Keef and Chuck rehearse was amusing as well.

[corvus9]

C., my general image of Lennon is that he was actually more fucked up and insane than all those other guys put together. If anything, he was more violent than any of them. But because his wit was five times faster than any of them, he was able to keep that well-hidden. I'm pretty sure the zen god thing is just something that Yoko keeps pushing as a coping mechanism for seeing him gunned down in front of her, so I'm not going to criticize her too much for that.

Now, Harrison, that was a zen god. I remember hearing that when that one crazy guy broke in and was trying to stab him to death, one of the reasons his wife had to fight the guy off was because George wasn't fighting back, he was just lying there, mentally preparing himself to meet his maker. Also, I read an interview with his son Dhani around the time Brainwashed came out, where he said that George's reponse to hearing his cancer was terminal was basically mild disapointment. No fear, just regret that his time was about up. That's pretty zen.

[Sir Charles]

Calvin,

He does in fact mention Chuck Berry quite a bit and talks about his efforts to put together the tribute show. One of the great things about this is, of course, Keith Richards having to be the responsible adult to Berry's impossible behavior.

He also discusses extensively how Berry screwed his piano player, Johnnie Johnson, out of songwriting credits and how Berry eschewed playing with top flight musicians for much of his career in order to make more money. Richards was proud to find Johnson and get him back with Berry for these shows and to get him playing piano professionally again. (Although Mick Taylor had a similar bitch about Jagger and Richards denying him credit for his work helping to co-write "Moonlight Mile" and "Sway" with Jagger -- Richards evidently was not present for much of the work on both songs.)

The odd thing about Richards is that he is a very professional guy at some level. He clearly believes in excellence in playing and in high level musical team work. I think he found Berry's willingness to play with second rate guys in whatever town he was visiting to be incomprehensible.

One senses that if he didn't feel a tremendous debt to Berry and great love for his work, that he might have strangled him.

[Sir Charles]

Corvus,

I'm put in mind of Lennon's comment regarding Harrison losing a copyright infringement claim for cribbing "My Sweet Lord" from "He's so Fine" -- words to the effect that George was so lazy he couldn't be bothered changing one note.

Lennon, Richards, et al, all grew up in what was a pretty macho world, that of the male English working class. I think violence, including domestic violence, was an accepted part of the milieu in many respects -- see e.g. Brian Jones's habit of slugging women. (Lennon too admitted to beating his first wife.)

I think that as he became a peace activist and a less angry, more enlightened, human being, Lennon was pretty ashamed of this aspect of his life.

[Krubozumo Nyankoye]

Dartford was where Keith and Jagger grew up. Having spent a couple of months back in about 95' staying in Bromley and running back and forth between Dartford and Liverpool just by purest coincidence trying to evaluate the cost effectiveness of various pulverizing machines I can testify that the world of the male english working class is a pretty tough go.

Keef talks about how he was intimidated as a youth, so what are we left with? Well, these are pretty ordinary guys in most respects more or less suddenly idolized by millions. To me it is unsurprising that they did not behave all that well from a conventional perspective, but it is very surprising that they can still produce concerts that are as wild, frenetic and musically over the top as what I have seen on video.

Does that give them a pass? No, not really, but by the same token there is mentioned more than once in the book that Keef was a bit bemused by why the "establishment" was so concerned about the influence of one guitar player, and frankly, I have to agree with him on that point.

Litbrit, kinda cool you got to meet the band. I bet that is a fond fond memory in some respects.

Kathy a. - across cultural divides that would be difficult to survey, music builds a bridge. I think MHB knows what I am talking about.

[big bad wolf]

through 2005, which is the last time i saw them, keith still stands pretty close to charlie, at least at the beginning of songs while they figure out where they are going. every song starts out a bit messy, then those two decide how they want to do it, and off everyone goes. it's fascinating.

in "hail,hail, rock n' roll" keith said, more or less exactly and totally deadpan, "it's interesting. chuck wrote in b-flat, which is a piano key, you know."

[Sir Charles]

KN,

You'e right -- Richards really stresses the bullying and attributes to some degree his school failings to the anxieties induced by fear of being bullied.

I should also point out that these working class, provincial guys were totally open to black American culture and thrilled to be welcomed into it -- at a time when people were being killed over integration in parts of the U.S.

And yes, the bizarre amount of energy that went into trying to put the Stones in jail is a little bit unimaginable.

bbw,

Welcome back guy! Keith definitely goes out of his way in the book to give Johnnie Johnson his due. And I've got to believe that a much as he knows he owes to Chuck B., he can't resist sticking the knife in just a little bit.