Your average college brick doesn’t know much about the chart-topping wonders of the UK who have sold out concerts since the mid-’60s. We know the band’s influential tunes such as “Brown Sugar” and “Sympathy for the Devil,” which survived the years of musical bombardment in many forms. They are The Rolling Stones and, for what it’s worth, the band’s new album is a doorway that invites us to compare the depths of their stardom with the mediocrity of their new style.
A Bigger Bang, the Rolling Stones’ first studio album since 1997’s Bridges to Babylon, is comparable to a good college party gone bad. The talk is loud and the dancing raunchy. Suddenly the beer runs out and some dude in a hat walks around asking for a few dollars from each person to get another keg. Not sure he’s actually going to pull through with the keg, you tightly clutch your wallet you had already put in your pocket so your money wouldn’t get jacked, and eventually, the women leave, and what’s left is just what seems to be random personalities that don’t add up to much of a fiesta. You are now lost, unsure, confused, while the music also becomes lost, unsure and confused.
Yes, these are the qualities of Bang.
The album kicks off with “Rough Justice,” a track flaunting a classic Stones rhythm guitar reminiscent of “Start Me Up.” Jagger then leads guitarist Keith Richards into some sick slide guitar. Digitally produced by Don Was and The Glimmer Twins, you can hear the compression of Jagger’s vocals, and you frown. But what usurps is the ’60s hip-swinging dirt in the 6-strings.
The party is a-bumpin’.
But, man, what a delusive start, as “Let Me Down Slow” (which the album does) and “It Won’t Take Long” sound like a combination of rock bands from the ’90s that drew inspiration from and failed trying to sound like the Stones of the ’70s. While lacking the country grunge of their past works, these two tracks rip some hanky-panky guitar licks periodically to keep a listener enticed.
Some tracks, such as “Rain Fall Down,” don’t sound much like the Stones at all; it’s funky with a little groove to it. “Streets of Love” falls short of a catchy pop tune, though it builds some power during the choruses; however, the verses lack the inspiration classic Stones ballads such as “Sweet Virginia” and “Wild Horses” awaken in fans.
With the release of the band’s 1964 self-titled effort, the Stones were known for keeping true to its rhythm and blues roots. Luckily, the band brings that to the forefront on Bang. “Back of My Hand” reveals a crying harmonica with a guitar that soothes her pain, and a constant kicking bass drum that unmasks the griot within Jagger.
The kegless part of the party begins, where the drunken whiners strut around just making noise and that guy (he’s always wearing a hat) walks around scroungin’ change for another keg. The songs begin to epitomize what the Stones have been criticized for becoming — a few old guys singing powerless songs. The tunes start slow and fail to pick up any pace or power. They lack the raw, rockin’ quality that epitomized the Stones of the ’70s.
But despite the lack of solid hooks and catchy lyrics, the guitar work on the second half of the disc blows away most of what you’ll find on today’s pop charts.
On “Laugh, I Nearly Died,” which boasts lines such as, “I’ve been to Africa/looking for my soul,” and “I’m so sick and tired/try and turn the time/so I say my goodbye/Laugh, laugh, I nearly died,” Jagger wows us with his strong lyrics and soulful singing.
He runs a verbal attack, probably aimed at George W. Bush, on “Sweet Neo Con.” Good message, but terrible execution. And the icing on the cake: Richards sings two substandard tunes.
The music is still rockin’, but without the classic Stones sound, the band might as well be Aerosmith, U2 or Oasis, or a combination of all three. There’s no cheap, dirty sex in the sound they make anymore. The music doesn’t inspire anymore. The church-like gospel sound of the back-up singers doesn’t work like it did in “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.”
The Rolling Stones’ sound has evolved into an oppressed sound of what they seemingly want. Still present is the down-and-out singing, the harmonica that rolls through several songs and the congas that make subtle appearances throughout. But while most aspects point toward the band’s roots, the delivery doesn’t cut it.
Bang is at best an average album, giving fans a taste of the new side of the Rolling Stones. But we reach the end of the disc longing to pop in the greats such as Sticky Fingers or Exile on Main St. for reassurance the Stones actually do rock.
The disc is worth passing over for the casual listener, but those still determined to give it a chance are better off checking out the official website to listen to the complete album. One listen might persuade you to opt an earlier record where the Stones defined a generation — not a dying party.
