Stones cold case

Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney
Mick Jagger sitting at the feet of Paul McCartney — where he belonged. 😉

The 40-year-old case of Brian Jones’ death is being pried open.

http://www.boston.com/ae/music/articles/2009/08/31/uk_police_to_review_rolling_stones_guitarist_death/

I’m somebody who thinks there’s nothing more to it than, “a coroner said Jones drowned while under the influence of alcohol and drugs,” but this gives me an excuse to say something about the Rolling Stones.

At some point in 1970, in my anguished early-mid adolescence, I realized I’d stopped caring, at a visceral level, about the Rolling Stones. It happened when I developed a deep, personal relationship with The Who. Later, I came to realize my waning interest in the Stones had also coincided with the disappearance of Brian Jones from the lineup.

Much of what I respond to in the Rolling Stones are the sounds and flourishes contributed by Brian Jones. Go back to my post at this link to hear an early example of what I’m talking about.

Some critics fault the Stones’ psychedelic period as being insincere and full of “us too” efforts, but these are some of my favorite recordings, thanks to Brian Jones. The delightful “Dandelion” wasn’t released until the Summer of Love in ’67, but it had been recorded in late ’66.

[audio:http://www.dograt.com/Audio/2009/SEP/Dandelion.mp3]

A favorite Stones psychedelic single is “She’s a Rainbow,” b/w “2000 Light Years From Home.” I’ve got to believe that Jones is all through both of these tracks.

2000 Light Years From Home

[audio:http://www.dograt.com/Audio/2009/SEP/Rainbow.mp3,http://www.dograt.com/Audio/2009/SEP/2000LightYears.mp3]

I’m not an expert on Rolling Stones studio recordings, but the last notable release that sounds like it bears the distinctive Brian Jones brand is “Child of the Moon.”

[audio:http://www.dograt.com/Audio/2009/SEP/ChildMoon.mp3]

Jones was undoubtedly played out and had nothing further to contribute, but once he was gone the Stones did only one more standout — “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” — and then, for me, it was downhill from there. What they were lacking without Brian was a feeling of creativity and musical expression. Oh, I thought “Sticky Fingers” was a great record — especially with the original zipper sleeve gimmick — but it didn’t take me over like “Who’s Next” would. And I enjoy “Exile on Mainstreet,” but I’ve never played it as more than background music.

Ted Kennedy Dead

I met him only once, with a 20-minute one-on-one interview eight years after Chappaquiddick, three years before he lost the Democratic nomination to Jimmy Carter. No matter what you may have thought of him as a man, I have to stay that Ted Kennedy was very impressive in person. As a senator he knew his stuff.


P.S. Ted didn’t lose the nomination, of course, in 1980. He dropped out of the running.


See comments for why I added this post to the Beatles category.

Dylan went electric … when?

Suze Rotolo and Bob Dylan, 1963
Suze Rotolo and Bob Dylan, 1963, © Jim Marshall

Bob Dylan famously “went electric” at the ’65 Newport Folk Festival, to a somewhat mixed response.

When I first heard the “Biograph” set in ’85, which I got on LP before buying my first CD player, I was stunned by the pairing of these two songs.

[audio:http://www.dograt.com/Audio/2009/AUG/Biograph.mp3]

“Mixed Up Confusion” was recorded in 1962. ’62! With “Tombstone Blues” Dylan was just picking up where he’d left off nearly three years before. When I first heard this I felt as though Dylan hadn’t caught up to Folk Rock, but that he had, in fact, secretly invented it.

Dylan the tourist

Back in May, it was reported that Bob Dylan joined a Beatles tour in England, and went essentially unnoticed, to see John Lennon’s boyhood home.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/merseyside/8046278.stm

But that wasn’t the first time Bob Dylan visited the hometown of the Beatles. Here he is in Liverpool in 1966, only a couple of months before his motorcycle crash.

Bob Dylan, Liverpool, England, 1966
© Barry Feinstein

Plutocracy

Clare, in Clare and the Reasons, is Clare Muldaur, daughter of Maria and Geoff. Here she sings in defense of Pluto, the little put-upon planet that scientists say may not actually rate being called a planet. Listening to the French version, “Pluton,” on her MySpace page, with its dreamy use of a theramin sound, I get a sense that this was intended to be the missing final part of Holst’s suite The Planets, which was composed before Pluto had been discovered.