In the mixed bag of late career Rolling Stones, this is a highlight. It has a sexy midtempo groove, great vocals and harmonica from Mick Jagger, and just the right amount of sleaze. The Stones have worn the grooves of their cock rock anthems into ruts, as critics are fond of reminding us. But between those ruts has been an undercurrent of existential angst. Mick Jagger isn’t entirely without self-awareness, though he may wear his persona like armour most of the time. Sometimes he does grapple with not being what he used to be. He’ll never be on the skids, but imagines himself – sometimes – as a faded, sleazy old man. It’s been a big theme in the later years, and maybe if he wasn’t yoked into this economically rewarding marriage of convenience, he would explore it more deeply.