Dal capolavoro 'Exile On Main Street' in avanti , i Rolling Stones si erano mossi verso un punto da dove poter operare senza fare i conti con le mode del momento.
In sostanza, si può vedere quanto essi desiderassero tener fede alla funzione primaria del rock'n'roll, quella di produrre musica per ballare. Quello che fecero gli stones fu essenzialmente prima dar forma e poi riadattare la meccanica del R&B per soddisfare le loro esigenze personali . Raggiunsero l'obbiettivo concentrandosi solamente sui più grandi manierismi del genere: ritmo, tensione, energia. E questo disco raggiunge lo scopo con intelligenza attenuata, dove spiccano pezzi come "Luxury" che rappresenta come gli stones interpretano il ritmo reggae trasformandolo in un neoclassico, "If You Really Want To Be My Friend", brillante escursione nel "ghetto" e "Fingerprint File" dove ogni nota di questa riproduzione eleva il brano al rango di quintessenza-stones.
Gli altri brani sono tipici lavori degli stones "tirati a lucido" che rendono inutili e vuote tutte quelle punk band in stile anni 60 come le New York Dolls , la cui unica ambizione era quella di essere presi per gli stones. Su questo album ci sono anche due canzoni d'amore con Jagger nei panni del dilettante dagli occhi languidi che canta "Angie", l'imbarazzante "Till The Next Goodbye" e la squisita "time Waits For No One" con quel suo verso immortale "Il tempo può abbattere un palazzo o distruggere il viso di una donna" , decisamente la più convincente.
C'è molto di più in questo album di quanto non sembri al primo ascolto.
Elenco tracce testi e samples
06 Luxury (05:03)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
I want a real fine car, fly Miami too
All the rum, I want to drink it, all the whiskey too
My woman need a new dress, my daughter got to go to school
I'm working so hard, I'm working for the company
I'm working so hard to keep you in the luxury
You can't call me lazy on a seven day a week
Make a million for the Texans, twenty dollar me
Yes, I want a gold ring, riding in a limousine
I'm working so hard, I'm working for the company
I'm working so hard to keep you in the luxury
Now listen, I'm a proud man, not a beggar walking on the street
I'm working so hard, to keep you from the poverty
I'm working so hard to keep you in the luxury, oh yeah
I'm working so hard, I'm working so hard
Harder, harder, working, working, working
I think it's such a strange thing, giving me concern
Half the world it got nothing the other half got money to burn
My woman need a new dress, my daughter got to go to school
I'm working so hard, I'm working for the company, oh, yeah
I'm working so hard, oh, yeah
Working on a Sunday in refinery
Make a million for the Texans, twenty dollar me
All the rum, I want to drink it, I got responsibility
I'm working so hard to keep you from the poverty, oh, yeah
I'm working so hard, I'm working for the company, oh, yeah
I'm working so hard, oh, yeah
Harder, harder, working, working...
09 Short and Curlies (02:45)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Too bad she's got you by the balls
You can't get free at all
She's got your name
She's got your number
You're screamin'
Like thunder
And you can't get away from it all
It's too bad, she's got you by the balls
You can't break loose at all
She's got your name
She's got your number
You're screamin' like thunder
And you're trapped like a rat in a hole
It's too bad, she's got you by the balls
She's nailed you to the wall
Oh, it's a shame
Ah but it's funny
She crashed your car
She spend your money
And you can't get away from it all
It's too bad, she's grabbed a handful
And you can't get away from it all
It's too bad, oo, and it's painful
And you can't break away from this stall
And you can't get away from it all
It's too bad
She's got you by the balls
She's got your name
She's got your number
You're screamin' blue murder
And you can't get away from it all
It's too bad, she's got you by the balls
It's too bad, she's got you by the balls
It's too bad, she's got you by the balls
She's got you by the...
It's too bad, it's too bad
It's too bad, it's too bad
So sad, so sad
10 Fingerprint File (06:33)
(M. Jagger/K. Richards)
Fingerprint file, you get me down
You keep me running
Know my way around. Yes, you do, child
Fingerprint file, you bring me down
Keep me running
You keep me on the ground
Know my moves
Way ahead of time
Listening to me
On your satellite
Feeling followed
Feeling tagged
Crossing water
Trying to wipe my tracks
And there's some little jerk in the FBI
A keepin' papers on me six feet high
It gets me down, it gets me down, it gets me down
You better watch out
On your telephone
Wrong number
They know you ain't home
And there's some little jerk in the FBI
A keepin' papers on me six feet high
It gets me down, it gets me down, it gets me down
Who's the man on the corner; that corner over there
I don't know. Well, you better lay low. Watch out
Keep on the look out
Electric eyes
Rats on the sell out
Who gonna testify
You know my habits
Way a head of time
Listening to me
On your satellite
And there's some little jerk in the FBI
A keepin' papers on me six feet high
It gets me down, it gets me down, it gets me down
It gets me down
Hello, baby, mm-hmm
Ah, yeah, you know we ain't, we ain't talkin' alone
Who's listening? Well I don't really know
But you better tell the SIS to keep out of sight
'Cause I know they takin' pictures on the ultraviolet light
Yes, uh huh, yeah, but these days it's all secrecy; no privacy
Shoot first, that' s right... you know
Bye bye.
Right now somebody is listening to...... you
Keeping their eyes peeled...... on you
Mmm, mmm, what a price, what a price to pay
All right. Good night, sleep tight
Carico i commenti... con calma
