The Rolling Stones Albums (34)
'Shine a Light: Original Soundtrack'
Release Date 4/1/2008
Tracks 33
Label Interscope
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Over the course of their nearly 45-year recording career, the Rolling Stones have released eight official live albums and five theatrical feature films. Add to that the many live home video releases (including two four-disc box sets of latter-day tours) along with countless unofficial live releases, and there's simply an avalanche of live Rolling Stones material out on the market -- so how does 2008's Shine a Light stand apart from the pack? That's simple: it is a prestige project, thanks to the collaboration of director Martin Scorsese. The very presence of the Academy Award-winning director, who has mined many memorable movie moments from the Stones (often involving "Gimme Shelter," which is conspicuous in its absence from this film and soundtrack), elevates Shine a Light far above the status of just another concert film. But Scorsese isn't merely just the director -- he's part of the film and the soundtrack, turning himself into a cheerful caricature of his quick-talking reputation, reminding the audience that's he's part of this project (he also gets co-billing on the cover and spine of the CD!). And by sending himself up, he helps to build the band up, showing that he's powerless to compete with the force of the Stones and thereby illustrating that they're still a rock & roll force. To a large extent, the music on Shine a Light confirms this to be true, proving that the band retains a remarkable alchemy that has deepened over the years. It's useless to compare Shine a Light to such early landmarks as Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, as this is a different band than the roving band of marauders from 1969. This is a band that has, in Keith Richards' estimation, turned into a rock & roll equivalent of the Duke Ellington or Count Basie orchestras, players that keep on playing because that's what they do. Shine a Light bears this out, as the group has an easy interplay that avoids being lazy, even on the worn-out warhorses that close the album. There's not much that the group can do to make "Brown Sugar," "Start Me Up," or "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" (one of seven songs only available on the soundtrack's double-disc edition, which contains every song used in the film) new, but they hardly go through the motions on them; they do tight, muscular versions, versions that hardly sound like the work of 60-year-olds. But the real reason to get Shine a Light is to hear the band tighten up the rhythms on "All Down the Line" and then do the opposite with "Tumbling Dice," turning it into something that's looser than the original, and it's also great to hear them find a groove so smoothly funky on "Just My Imagination" that they top their original 1978 studio version. The Stones seem especially invigorated by playing with guests, letting Jack White indulge in some Gram Parsons fantasies on a good version of "Loving Cup," playing some tough, authentic Chicago blues with Buddy Guy on "Champagne & Reefer," and surprisingly getting a ferocious performance from Christina Aguilera, who navigates Mick's complicated, nasty lyrics with ease in "Live with Me." These may not be major moments but they are minor pleasures, and they're the reason why it's all right to add a ninth live album to the Rolling Stones' bulging live discography. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Eight years separate 2005's A Bigger Bang, the Rolling Stones' 24th album of original material, from its 1997 predecessor, Bridges to Babylon, the longest stretch of time between Stones albums in history, but unlike the three-year gap between 1986's Dirty Work and 1989's Steel Wheels, the band never really went away. They toured steadily, not just behind Bridges but behind the career-spanning 2002 compilation Forty Licks, and the steady activity paid off nicely, as the 2004 concert souvenir album Live Licks proved. The tight, sleek, muscular band showcased there was a surprise -- they played with a strength and swagger they hadn't had in years -- but a bigger surprise is that A Bigger Bang finds that reinvigorated band carrying its latter-day renaissance into the studio, turning in a sinewy, confident, satisfying album that's the band's best in years. Of course, every Stones album since their highly touted, self-conscious 1989 comeback, Steel Wheels, has been designed to get this kind of positive press, to get reviewers to haul out the cliché that this is their "best record since Exile on Main St." (Mick Jagger is so conscious of this, he deliberately compared Bigger Bang to Exile in all pre-release publicity and press, even if the scope and feel of Bang is very different from that 1972 classic), so it's hard not to take any praise with a grain of salt, but there is a big difference between this album and 1994's Voodoo Lounge. That album was deliberately classicist, touching on all of the signatures of classic mid-period, late-'60s/early-'70s Stones -- reviving the folk, country, and straight blues that balanced their trademark rockers -- and while it was often successful, it very much sounded like the Stones trying to be the Stones. What distinguishes A Bigger Bang is that it captures the Stones simply being the Stones, playing without guest stars, not trying to have a hit, not trying to adopt the production style of the day, not doing anything but lying back and playing. Far from sounding like a lazy affair, the album rocks really hard, tearing out of the gate with "Rough Justice," the toughest, sleaziest, and flat-out best song Jagger and Richards have come up with in years. It's not a red herring, either -- "She Saw Me Coming," "Look What the Cat Dragged In," and the terrific "Oh No Not You Again," which finds Mick spitting out lyrics with venom and zeal, are equally as hard and exciting, but the album isn't simply a collection of rockers. The band delves into straight blues with "Back of My Hand," turns toward pop with "Let Me Down Slow," rides a disco groove reminiscent of "Emotional Rescue" on "Rain Fall Down," and has a number of ballads, highlighted by "Streets of Love" and Keith's late-night barroom anthem "This Place Is Empty," that benefit greatly from the stripped-down, uncluttered production by Don Was and the Glimmer Twins. Throughout the album, the interplay of the band is at the forefront, which is one of the reasons the record is so consistent: even the songs that drift toward the generic are redeemed by the sound of the greatest rock & roll band ever playing at a latter-day peak. And, make no mistake about it, the Stones sound better as a band than they have in years: there's an ease and assurance to their performances that are a joy to hear, whether they're settling into a soulful groove or rocking harder than any group of 60-year-olds should. But A Bigger Bang doesn't succeed simply because the Stones are great musicians, it also works because this is a strong set of Jagger-Richards originals -- naturally, the songs don't rival their standards from the '60s and '70s, but the best songs here more than hold their own with the best of their post-Exile work, and there are more good songs here than on any Stones album since Some Girls. This may not be a startling comeback along the lines of Bob Dylan's Love and Theft, but that's fine, because over the last three decades the Stones haven't been about surprises: they've been about reliability. The problem is, they haven't always lived up to their promises, or when they did deliver the goods, it was sporadic and unpredictable. And that's what's unexpected about A Bigger Bang: they finally hold up their end of the bargain, delivering a strong, engaging, cohesive Rolling Stones album that finds everybody in prime form. Keith is loose and limber, Charlie is tight and controlled, Ronnie lays down some thrilling, greasy slide guitar, and Mick is having a grand time, making dirty jokes, baiting neo-cons, and sounding more committed to the Stones than he has in years. Best of all, this is a record where the band acknowledges its age and doesn't make a big deal about it: they're not in denial, trying to act like a younger band, they've simply accepted what they do best and go about doing it as if it's no big deal. But that's what makes A Bigger Bang a big deal: it's the Stones back in fighting form for the first time in years, and they have both the strength and the stamina to make the excellent latter-day effort everybody's been waiting for all these years. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Another record, another tour, another live album chronicling the whole shebang. The Rolling Stones have followed this basic pattern since the early '80s -- if Keith had been able to get Mick out on the road to support Dirty Work, there damn well would have been a live record in 1987 -- stepping up the production rate in the '90s, eventually winding their way to No Security, a document of the Bridges to Babylon tour of 1997-1998. Since the Stones (or at least Jagger) are sharp businessmen, they have given all three of their '90s live albums a hook, an angle for journalists and fans alike -- Flashpoint was their return to form, Stripped was culled from unplugged and club dates, and No Security contains 11 songs that have never before appeared on a live Stones album. Of course, several of these date from Voodoo Lounge and Bridges to Babylon (five, to be exact), but they also dig out such great songs as "Gimme Shelter," "Respectable," "Sister Morphine," and "Memory Motel," as well as reviving "The Last Time" and "Live With Me," which haven't been on a live record since Got Live if You Want It! and Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, respectively. There are also guest spots from Taj Mahal and Dave Matthews. All of these things give some measure of distinction to No Security, but they don't erase the feeling that this is more of a soundtrack to a spectacle than a musical event. Sure, the Stones are as accomplished as ever, the album is certainly enjoyable, but it just doesn't feel necessary. Which, again, doesn't make it any different than most Stones live records since Love You Live. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Voodoo Lounge confirmed that the Stones could age gracefully, but it never sounded modern; it sounded classicist. With its successor, Bridges to Babylon, Mick Jagger was determined to bring the Rolling Stones into the '90s, albeit tentatively, and hired hip collaborators like the Dust Brothers (Beck, Beastie Boys) and Danny Saber (Black Grape) to give the veteran group an edge on their explorations of drum loops and samples. Of course, the Stones are the Stones, and no production is going to erase that, but the group is smart enough -- or Keith Richards is stubborn enough -- to work within its limitations and to have producer Don Was act as executive producer. As a result, Bridges to Babylon sounds like the Stones without sounding tired. The band is tight and energetic, and there's just enough flair to the sultry "Anybody Seen My Baby?," the menacing "Gunface," and the low-key, sleazy "Might as Well Get Juiced" to make them sound contemporary. But the real key to the success of Bridges to Babylon is the solid, craftsmanlike songwriting. While there aren't any stunners on the album, nothing is bad, with rockers like "Flip the Switch" and "Low Down" sounding as convincing as ballads like "Already Over Me." And, as always, Keith contributes three winners -- including the reggae workout "You Don't Have to Mean It" and the slow-burning "How Can I Stop" -- that cap off another fine latter-day Stones record. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
'The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus'
Release Date 10/15/1996
Tracks 19
Label ABKCO
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The most interesting archival release of the Rolling Stones since More Hot Rocks, 20 years ago, and the first issue of truly unreleased material by the Stones from this period. And the Stones have some competition from the Who, Taj Mahal, and John Lennon on the same release. Filmed and recorded on December 10-11, 1968, at a North London studio, Rock and Roll Circus has been, as much as the Beach Boys' Smile, "the one that got away" for most '60s music enthusiasts. The Jethro Tull sequence is the standard studio track, but the rest -- except for the Stones' "Salt of the Earth" -- is really live. The Who's portion has been out before, courtesy of various documentaries, but Taj Mahal playing some loud electric blues is new and great, the live Lennon rendition of "Yer Blues" is indispensable, and the Stones' set fills in lots of blanks in their history -- "Jumpin' Jack Flash" in one of two live renditions it ever got with Brian Jones in the lineup, "Sympathy for the Devil" in an intense run-through, "Parachute Woman" as a lost live vehicle for the band, "You Can't Always Get What You Want" as a show-stopping rocker even without its extended ending (no Paul Buckmaster choir), and "No Expectations" as their first piece of great live blues since "Little Red Rooster." It's a must-own, period. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Funny that the much-touted "reunion/comeback" album Steel Wheels followed Dirty Work by just three years, while it took the Stones five years to turn out its sequel, Voodoo Lounge -- a time frame that seems much more appropriate for a "comeback." To pile on the irony, Voodoo Lounge feels more like a return to form than its predecessor, even if it's every bit as calculated and Bill Wyman has flown the coup. With Don Was, a neo-classic rock producer who always attempts to reclaim his artist's original claim to greatness, helming the boards with the Glimmer Twins, the Stones strip their sound back to its spare, hard-rocking basics. The Stones act in kind, turning out a set of songs that are pretty traditionalist. There are no new twists or turns in either the rockers or ballads (apart maybe from the quiet menace of "Thru and Thru," later used to great effect on The Sopranos), even if they revive some of the English folk and acoustic country-blues that was on Beggars Banquet. Still, this approach works because they are turning out songs that may not be classics but are first-rate examples of the value of craft. If this was released ten years, even five years earlier, this would be a near-triumph of classicist rock, but since Voodoo Lounge came out in the CD age, it's padded out to 15 tracks, five of which could have been chopped to make the album much stronger. Instead, it runs on for nearly an hour, an ironically bloated length for an album whose greatest strengths are its lean, concentrated classic sound and songcraft. Still, it makes for a stronger record than its predecessor. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
The Stones, or more accurately the relationship between Mick and Keith, imploded shortly after Dirty Work, resulting in Mick delivering a nearly unbearably mannered, ambitious solo effort that stiffed and Keith knocking out the greatest Stones album since Tattoo You, something that satisfied the cult but wasn't a hit. Clearly, they were worth more together than they were apart, so it was time for the reunion, and that's what Steel Wheels is -- a self-styled reunion album. It often feels as if they sat down and decided exactly what their audience wanted from a Stones album, and they deliver a record that gives the people what they want, whether it's Tattoo You-styled rockers, ballads in the vein of "Fool to Cry," even a touch of old-fashioned experimentalism with "Continental Drift." Being professionals, in the business for over two and a half decades, and being a band that always favored calculation, they wear all this well, even if this lacks the vigor and menace that fuels the best singles; after all, the rocking singles ("Sad Sad Sad," "Rock and a Hard Place," "Mixed Emotions") wind up being smoked by such throwaways as "Hold on to Your Hat." Even though it's just 12 songs, the record feels a little long, largely due to its lack of surprises and unabashed calculation (the jams are slicked up so much they don't have the visceral power of the jam record, Black and Blue). Still, the Stones sound good, and Mick and Keith both get off a killer ballad apiece with "Almost Hear You Sigh" and "Slipping Away," respectively. It doesn't make for a great Stones album, but it's not bad, and it feels like a comeback -- which it was supposed to, after all. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
The live follow-ups and a fond look back on 25 years of decadence. ~ Bruce Eder, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Pieced together from outtakes and much-labored-over songs, Sticky Fingers manages to have a loose, ramshackle ambience that belies both its origins and the dark undercurrents of the songs. It's a weary, drug-laden album -- well over half the songs explicitly mention drug use, while the others merely allude to it -- that never fades away, but it barely keeps afloat. Apart from the classic opener, "Brown Sugar" (a gleeful tune about slavery, interracial sex, and lost virginity, not necessarily in that order), the long workout "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" and the mean-spirited "Bitch," Sticky Fingers is a slow, bluesy affair, with a few country touches thrown in for good measure. The laid-back tone of the album gives ample room for new lead guitarist Mick Taylor to stretch out, particularly on the extended coda of "Can't You Hear Me Knocking." But the key to the album isn't the instrumental interplay -- although that is terrific -- it's the utter weariness of the songs. "Wild Horses" is their first nonironic stab at a country song, and it is a beautiful, heart-tugging masterpiece. Similarly, "I Got the Blues" is a ravished, late-night classic that ranks among their very best blues. "Sister Morphine" is a horrifying overdose tale, and "Moonlight Mile," with Paul Buckmaster's grandiose strings, is a perfect closure: sad, yearning, drug-addled, and beautiful. With its offhand mixture of decadence, roots music, and outright malevolence, Sticky Fingers set the tone for the rest of the decade for the Stones. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
