Rolling Stones fans are pretty thick on the ground, and in varying degrees of thick in the head, but I don’t think I know anyone who wants to sit down and listen to Mick Jagger’s She’s the Boss. I don’t particularly want to listen to that record, either, and I own two copies of it. I also only somewhat want to see Mick Jagger dance in long underwear. But, you know, that record had some high points, some pretty fun silly pop songs, and this is one that I don’t mind putting on. I don’t mind hearing Mick Jagger complain about the pains of his jet-set lifestyle and high-glam social circle, and I sure don’t mind watching Jerry Hall wear lingerie.


Running Out of Luck


When I speak of 60’s icons who embarrassed themselves in the 80’s, I’m implying Mick Jagger. He wasn’t the only one, of course, but nobody embarrassed themselves quite as much as Jagger did. His main problem was that he seemed to really, really want to appear trendy and cool, with no trace of self-awareness or irony, and so much so that you kind of had to feel bad for him when he failed. Not that you should ever feel bad for Mick Jagger. He is, after all, Mick Jagger, which is a full-time job. It’s just that Mick Jagger needs his foils, because he’s actually kind of a one-dimensional character all by himself. That being said, however, Jagger’s mid-eighties solo phase has high entertainment value in its badness. It’s so bad it’s good, almost. His mistake was taking himself seriously; if he’d just done the same moves with a nod and a wink, he’d have nailed it.

Out of Focus

One of life’s great, simple pleasures is Mick Jagger’s singing. Jagger has more classic songs under his belt than most. The downside of that is over-familiarity. The unwavering ubiquity of The Rolling Stones in pop culture has, inevitably, dulled our appreciation. Of their collective and individual musicianship, of the Jagger and Richards songwriting partnership, and of Jagger himself, especially as a vocal stylist. Say what you will about Jagger’s solo contributions (pale in comparison to the famous hits, I know, I know) but as a fan, you have to appreciate his enthusiasm for tackling unfamiliar material and branching in unexpected directions. This song, from Wandering Spirit (his most acclaimed and successful solo album,) sounds like a long lost classic of 70’s soul, reminiscent of The Stones’ spirited Temptations covers from that era. It is, however, an original, a perfectly on-point homage, and a great example of Jagger’s ability to absorb musical styles. One of the things that have made The Rolling Stones so great has been the way they transformed from a blues cover band into a band that writes their own blues, as authentic as five English boys could hope to be. So it’s no stretch for Mick Jagger to write his own Motown style soul music when he tires of covering other people’s.

Mother of a Man

Ok, this song is ridiculous and dumb as fuck (and weirdly right-wing) and I can’t really defend its inclusion except to say that I love Mick Jagger no matter how low he sinks. That said, I honestly still think Wandering Spirit was a good, solid album, and definitely the best out of Jagger’s solo oeuvre. It was also fairly acclaimed and successful at the time, so it’s not just me going out on a limb. Obviously, every great artist inevitably makes a clunker. If their career lasts any decent amount of time, there will be many clunkers. Jagger, with and without his usual cohorts, has had many, but his output has always been interesting enough to avoid the trap of mediocrity. Weird and bad is preferable to half-decent and boring; at least it offers some kind of insight into the artist’s personal delusions. Jagger’s delusion has always been of hipness – thus his 1980’s embrace of all things synthesizer. Here, I think the singer is convinced that he’s still a fiercely provocative master of the blues.

Memo From Turner

No context necessary, as I assume you’ve all seen Performance. It’s only the single greatest movie ever made, so of course you would at least have heard of it. If you haven’t, it’s the briefly banned 1968 freakout in which Mick Jagger plays a version of himself that fucks so hard with the fabric of reality that everyone who worked on the movie either died, became a drug addict or went insane, or some combination of the three. Except Mick Jagger, who, the story goes, felt so comfortable with the role of Turner he went on playing it for the rest of his life. True story. Director later Donald Cammell committed suicide, allegedly asking his wife for a mirror so he could watch himself bleed out from a gunshot wound. Anita Pallenberg abandoned her film career to spend the next decade addicted to heroin; years later, in an eerie parallel to the end of the film, she would awake after a bender to witness her lover’s death by gunshot. Michele Breton became a heroin addict and OD’ed shortly after the film was completed. James Fox had a nervous breakdown, joined a religious cult and didn’t return to acting until the 80’s. True stories, all.

Lucky in Love

This on the other hand… Not so classic. There’s some debate about whether or not Mick Jagger has any business making solo records at all, which is a very important topic to be debating about. I’ve always said that yes of course he does and should continue to do so. As we saw yesterday, sometimes it’s really top notch. As we see today, sometimes it’s very very silly. But I love it, because it’s fun and it’s something different, and it’s nice to see a well established performer branch out, even if they might look foolish doing so.

Lucky Day

Do you ever have those moments when you hear a new song and you feel suddenly disoriented because it reminds you so much of something but you simply can’t figure out what that something is, then you realize that that something doesn’t exist, it’s just that this new song is so good it feels like something you’ve already loved forever? Doesn’t happen very often, but it’s a sure sign you’ve just heard something great. Mick Jagger’s Goddess in the Doorway gave me those feels, this track especially. Mick Jagger, of course, isn’t exactly a new artist and has decades of reference points behind him. Everything he does will inevitably in some way be referable to something he’s done in the past. When you’ve been in the pop game as long as Jagger, you could be living in a cave influenced by nothing but the sound of bats and people will still call you self-referential, or worse. Nonetheless, the feeling of ‘why hasn’t this always been there for me?’ is strong with this one.