Once again, the Stones singing about something they know nothing about. Cute! Mick and the boys probably couldn’t even wrap their brains around cotton fields and Dixieland, but nevertheless they’re blowing the hell out of that harp and giving it their best shot. They probably imagined Mobile, Alabama was glamorous (you know, the same way we Yanks imagine Manchester to be glamorous.) That’s cultural exchange for you. We give them the blues, they chew up, spit it out and give us back this slinky English mutation.