Tell Me :
Talk
Should stick to writing about faggy-looking mens shirts, and leave Ya-Ya's to Lester fuking Bangs.
Yeah but he's not talking about music here but mostly on the lyrics .
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
I've always thought it's a bit of a "skip" compared to the studio master.
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Sorry but i disagree.Whilst he obviusly finds the lyrics very politically incorrect,he then says 'it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet'',but goes on to say'Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them',clearly a reference to the Ya Yas version.
No truer thing said. This album is in a league of its own. Anyone that even remotely "gets it" knows that. And anyway, who the f**k takes a Guardian review of anything at all seriously ?
F**K'en eh!...agreed
As a Frenchman ,I know how things stands on the Guardian & the Sun reviews....
As a review ,I thought this would be an interesting lead .
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Back in 94 my Stones band ONLY wanted to do it like the Ya-Ya's version. Not me. When I heard the Four Flicks version I thought 'finally, Stray Cat Blues'!!!!
[thepowergoats.com]
I think the studio version is better than the Ya-Ya's version (which still is brilliant), but here's my favourite version - Leeds 1971:
Talk about your favorite band.
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Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
SwayStones
()
Date: November 27, 2009 11:31
I've checked the board and I don't think this has been posted before .I received it today in my mail box.
The Rolling Stones: Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!It's 1969, it's the Rolling Stones - and it's the sound of music dying on its feet, says Alexis Petridis
Thursday 26 November 2009 15.00 GMT
Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! occupies a unique place within the dread pantheon of Rolling Stones live albums, of which there are many, but virtually none a rational human being would want to listen to. It is held as the official document of the Stones onstage at their 1969 peak, before their gigs became notable largely for their decadence or ability to generate money. The most interesting thing about 1982's Still Life (American Concert) is that the tour it documented was rock's first ever to boast corporate sponsorship, from a cheap cologne called Jovan Musk. If you can't really imagine the Beatles heading out on a tour sponsored by Blue Stratos, then here was early evidence of the Stones' redoubtable refusal to let dignity get in the way of making cash.
Accordingly, in the latest round of Stones reissues, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out! has been afforded a lavish treatment denied, say, Flashpoint, a 1991 live album whose big selling points are a guest appearance from Eric Clapton and a new song called, alas, Sex Drive. It now comes with a DVD, with the album expanded to three CDs, one devoted to support acts BB King and Ike and Tina Turner. The latter's set hails from a juncture in Tina Turner's career when her USP was to imbue every song with the suggestion that she was about to drop the microphone and furnish someone with the filthiest sexual experience of their life. Here, Otis Redding's wracked I've Been Loving You Too Long suddenly becomes a song about impossibly dirty sex. So does the Beatles' countercultural exhortation Come Together. You suspect that if she'd chosen to essay David Bowie's The Laughing Gnome, she'd have made that sound like it was about impossibly dirty sex as well.
She sounds like a tough act to follow, and so it proved. If you've never heard Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, but you're aware of its reputation – a contemporary Rolling Stone review proclaimed it "the best rock concert ever put on record" – it's hard not to feel deflated. There are certainly great things here, among them the slashing, chaotic Jumping Jack Flash, a version of Live With Me that positively seethes with evil, and one of Mick Jagger's between-song announcements, during which he repeatedly yells "we're awl-RIGHT!" in exactly the same manner as Neil Kinnock once did, with disastrous results, at a Labour rally in Sheffield.
But equally, there are moments when you're evidently no more listening to the best rock concert ever put on record than you are the Massed Bands of the Coldstream Guards: the bafflingly popular serial-killer-themed Midnight Rambler plods on and on as if the murderer despatched his victims by boring them to death, while Sympathy for the Devil arrives utterly devoid of Satanic menace. There's something horribly lackadaisical about its jaunty chug, the guitar solo extended but denuded of its violent sting: an air of "this'll do", which it clearly did. As evidenced by the sound of a wall-eyed girl in the crowd crying "play Paint It Black, you devils", the Stones' audience had moved from screaming at the band to doing something more damaging: worshipping them as superhuman.
It's hard to keep your standards up when people will accept pretty much anything from you, hence the reviews Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! received in the teeth of its audibly uneven quality. For every raw and thrilling Street Fighting Man, there's a bloated disaster like Stray Cat Blues. Whether you feel a song about having it off with an underage girl is a cheerily licentious reminder of an age before Political Correctness Went Mad, or a revolting bulletin from an era when rock contained enough casual misogyny to make a gangsta rap album's lyrics look like the United Nations Convention On the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet. That version resembles the stuff from which parental nightmares are made: a moneyed, arrogant, impossibly beautiful rock star pinging your pubescent daughter's knicker elastic. Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them.
Indeed, what Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! sounds most like is the 60s waning before your very ears. There are flashes of greatness, but the white-knuckle innovation of 1965-67 has audibly gone, replaced by complacent jamming. The opening announcement of "the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world" smacks not of the thrillingly overheated fairground barking of pop earlier in the decade, but of the smug triumphalism that would ultimately provoke punk. It certainly captured a moment: just not the one its adherents think.
[www.guardian.co.uk]
"A chaotic Jumping Jack Flash " ????What ?
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2009-11-27 22:49 by bv.
The Rolling Stones: Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!It's 1969, it's the Rolling Stones - and it's the sound of music dying on its feet, says Alexis Petridis
Thursday 26 November 2009 15.00 GMT
Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! occupies a unique place within the dread pantheon of Rolling Stones live albums, of which there are many, but virtually none a rational human being would want to listen to. It is held as the official document of the Stones onstage at their 1969 peak, before their gigs became notable largely for their decadence or ability to generate money. The most interesting thing about 1982's Still Life (American Concert) is that the tour it documented was rock's first ever to boast corporate sponsorship, from a cheap cologne called Jovan Musk. If you can't really imagine the Beatles heading out on a tour sponsored by Blue Stratos, then here was early evidence of the Stones' redoubtable refusal to let dignity get in the way of making cash.
Accordingly, in the latest round of Stones reissues, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out! has been afforded a lavish treatment denied, say, Flashpoint, a 1991 live album whose big selling points are a guest appearance from Eric Clapton and a new song called, alas, Sex Drive. It now comes with a DVD, with the album expanded to three CDs, one devoted to support acts BB King and Ike and Tina Turner. The latter's set hails from a juncture in Tina Turner's career when her USP was to imbue every song with the suggestion that she was about to drop the microphone and furnish someone with the filthiest sexual experience of their life. Here, Otis Redding's wracked I've Been Loving You Too Long suddenly becomes a song about impossibly dirty sex. So does the Beatles' countercultural exhortation Come Together. You suspect that if she'd chosen to essay David Bowie's The Laughing Gnome, she'd have made that sound like it was about impossibly dirty sex as well.
She sounds like a tough act to follow, and so it proved. If you've never heard Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, but you're aware of its reputation – a contemporary Rolling Stone review proclaimed it "the best rock concert ever put on record" – it's hard not to feel deflated. There are certainly great things here, among them the slashing, chaotic Jumping Jack Flash, a version of Live With Me that positively seethes with evil, and one of Mick Jagger's between-song announcements, during which he repeatedly yells "we're awl-RIGHT!" in exactly the same manner as Neil Kinnock once did, with disastrous results, at a Labour rally in Sheffield.
But equally, there are moments when you're evidently no more listening to the best rock concert ever put on record than you are the Massed Bands of the Coldstream Guards: the bafflingly popular serial-killer-themed Midnight Rambler plods on and on as if the murderer despatched his victims by boring them to death, while Sympathy for the Devil arrives utterly devoid of Satanic menace. There's something horribly lackadaisical about its jaunty chug, the guitar solo extended but denuded of its violent sting: an air of "this'll do", which it clearly did. As evidenced by the sound of a wall-eyed girl in the crowd crying "play Paint It Black, you devils", the Stones' audience had moved from screaming at the band to doing something more damaging: worshipping them as superhuman.
It's hard to keep your standards up when people will accept pretty much anything from you, hence the reviews Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! received in the teeth of its audibly uneven quality. For every raw and thrilling Street Fighting Man, there's a bloated disaster like Stray Cat Blues. Whether you feel a song about having it off with an underage girl is a cheerily licentious reminder of an age before Political Correctness Went Mad, or a revolting bulletin from an era when rock contained enough casual misogyny to make a gangsta rap album's lyrics look like the United Nations Convention On the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet. That version resembles the stuff from which parental nightmares are made: a moneyed, arrogant, impossibly beautiful rock star pinging your pubescent daughter's knicker elastic. Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them.
Indeed, what Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! sounds most like is the 60s waning before your very ears. There are flashes of greatness, but the white-knuckle innovation of 1965-67 has audibly gone, replaced by complacent jamming. The opening announcement of "the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world" smacks not of the thrillingly overheated fairground barking of pop earlier in the decade, but of the smug triumphalism that would ultimately provoke punk. It certainly captured a moment: just not the one its adherents think.
[www.guardian.co.uk]
"A chaotic Jumping Jack Flash " ????What ?
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2009-11-27 22:49 by bv.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
studiorambo
()
Date: November 27, 2009 12:25
Should stick to writing about faggy-looking mens shirts, and leave Ya-Ya's to Lester fuking Bangs.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
still ill
()
Date: November 27, 2009 12:37
How difficult would it have been for the Guardian to find a picture from 1969,nevermind labeling a Wood era pic as being from 'circa 1972'.
As for the review,i seem to remember the same guy giving a rather limp review to one of the live shows a while back.He's entitled to his opinion of course although i don't agree at all with the majority of his points.I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
As for the review,i seem to remember the same guy giving a rather limp review to one of the live shows a while back.He's entitled to his opinion of course although i don't agree at all with the majority of his points.I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
SwayStones
()
Date: November 27, 2009 12:54
Quote
still ill
.I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
Yeah but he's not talking about music here but mostly on the lyrics .
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
studiorambo
()
Date: November 27, 2009 13:15
Quote
still ill
I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
I've always thought it's a bit of a "skip" compared to the studio master.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
SwayStones
()
Date: November 27, 2009 13:30
I like the groovy tempo .Quote
studioramboQuote
still ill
I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
I've always thought it's a bit of a "skip" compared to the studio master.
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
still ill
()
Date: November 27, 2009 13:32
Quote
SwayStonesQuote
still ill
.I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
Yeah but he's not talking about music here but mostly on the lyrics .
Sorry but i disagree.Whilst he obviusly finds the lyrics very politically incorrect,he then says 'it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet'',but goes on to say'Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them',clearly a reference to the Ya Yas version.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
marcovandereijk
()
Date: November 27, 2009 15:20
And a reference that can easily been blown to hell. Come on, Stray Cat Blues does NOT
lumber painfully by. Both Micks are exploring new grounds with this version. The climax
during the choruses sounds raises the hairs in my neck every time.
His description of Midnight Rambler and Sympathy for the Devil is even more hilariously
beside the point. I feel sorry for a person who is not able to rock out to this album.
I guess somewhere in his life he lost some of his ability to simply enjoy good music.
lumber painfully by. Both Micks are exploring new grounds with this version. The climax
during the choruses sounds raises the hairs in my neck every time.
His description of Midnight Rambler and Sympathy for the Devil is even more hilariously
beside the point. I feel sorry for a person who is not able to rock out to this album.
I guess somewhere in his life he lost some of his ability to simply enjoy good music.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
Tumblin_Dice_07
()
Date: November 27, 2009 17:10
The guy certainly is entitled to his own opinion. But come on..........he doesn't like "Midnight Rambler" or "Sympathy For The Devil"? I'm pretty sure he's definately in the minority with his critisisms of Ya Ya's.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
SwayStones
()
Date: November 27, 2009 17:19
the guitar solo extended but denuded of its violent sting: an air of "this'll do",
This is really bad you know .The guitar solo is just awesome and 33 yeras old after the first listening ,still gives me goosebumps .
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
This is really bad you know .The guitar solo is just awesome and 33 yeras old after the first listening ,still gives me goosebumps .
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Guardian: Ya Yas Review
Posted by:
LastStopThisTown
()
Date: November 27, 2009 20:03
guardian ya yas review
The Rolling Stones: Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!
It's 1969, it's the Rolling Stones – and it's the sound of music dying on its feet, says Alexis Petridis
Alexis Petridis
guardian.co.uk, Thursday 26 November 2009 15.00 GMT
Article history
Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! occupies a unique place within the dread pantheon of Rolling Stones live albums, of which there are many, but virtually none a rational human being would want to listen to. It is held as the official document of the Stones onstage at their 1969 peak, before their gigs became notable largely for their decadence or ability to generate money. The most interesting thing about 1982's Still Life (American Concert) is that the tour it documented was rock's first ever to boast corporate sponsorship, from a cheap cologne called Jovan Musk. If you can't really imagine the Beatles heading out on a tour sponsored by Blue Stratos, then here was early evidence of the Stones' redoubtable refusal to let dignity get in the way of making cash.
Accordingly, in the latest round of Stones reissues, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out! has been afforded a lavish treatment denied, say, Flashpoint, a 1991 live album whose big selling points are a guest appearance from Eric Clapton and a new song called, alas, Sex Drive. It now comes with a DVD, with the album expanded to three CDs, one devoted to support acts BB King and Ike and Tina Turner. The latter's set hails from a juncture in Tina Turner's career when her USP was to imbue every song with the suggestion that she was about to drop the microphone and furnish someone with the filthiest sexual experience of their life. Here, Otis Redding's wracked I've Been Loving You Too Long suddenly becomes a song about impossibly dirty sex. So does the Beatles' countercultural exhortation Come Together. You suspect that if she'd chosen to essay David Bowie's The Laughing Gnome, she'd have made that sound like it was about impossibly dirty sex as well.
She sounds like a tough act to follow, and so it proved. If you've never heard Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, but you're aware of its reputation – a contemporary Rolling Stone review proclaimed it "the best rock concert ever put on record" – it's hard not to feel deflated. There are certainly great things here, among them the slashing, chaotic Jumping Jack Flash, a version of Live With Me that positively seethes with evil, and one of Mick Jagger's between-song announcements, during which he repeatedly yells "we're awl-RIGHT!" in exactly the same manner as Neil Kinnock once did, with disastrous results, at a Labour rally in Sheffield.
But equally, there are moments when you're evidently no more listening to the best rock concert ever put on record than you are the Massed Bands of the Coldstream Guards: the bafflingly popular serial-killer-themed Midnight Rambler plods on and on as if the murderer despatched his victims by boring them to death, while Sympathy for the Devil arrives utterly devoid of Satanic menace. There's something horribly lackadaisical about its jaunty chug, the guitar solo extended but denuded of its violent sting: an air of "this'll do", which it clearly did. As evidenced by the sound of a wall-eyed girl in the crowd crying "play Paint It Black, you devils", the Stones' audience had moved from screaming at the band to doing something more damaging: worshipping them as superhuman.
It's hard to keep your standards up when people will accept pretty much anything from you, hence the reviews Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! received in the teeth of its audibly uneven quality. For every raw and thrilling Street Fighting Man, there's a bloated disaster like Stray Cat Blues. Whether you feel a song about having it off with an underage girl is a cheerily licentious reminder of an age before Political Correctness Went Mad, or a revolting bulletin from an era when rock contained enough casual misogyny to make a gangsta rap album's lyrics look like the United Nations Convention On the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet. That version resembles the stuff from which parental nightmares are made: a moneyed, arrogant, impossibly beautiful rock star pinging your pubescent daughter's knicker elastic. Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them.
Indeed, what Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! sounds most like is the 60s waning before your very ears. There are flashes of greatness, but the white-knuckle innovation of 1965-67 has audibly gone, replaced by complacent jamming. The opening announcement of "the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world" smacks not of the thrillingly overheated fairground barking of pop earlier in the decade, but of the smug triumphalism that would ultimately provoke punk. It certainly captured a moment: just not the one its adherents think.
-------------------------------------
The review smells of someone who really doesn't get the Stones...
The Rolling Stones: Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!
It's 1969, it's the Rolling Stones – and it's the sound of music dying on its feet, says Alexis Petridis
Alexis Petridis
guardian.co.uk, Thursday 26 November 2009 15.00 GMT
Article history
Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! occupies a unique place within the dread pantheon of Rolling Stones live albums, of which there are many, but virtually none a rational human being would want to listen to. It is held as the official document of the Stones onstage at their 1969 peak, before their gigs became notable largely for their decadence or ability to generate money. The most interesting thing about 1982's Still Life (American Concert) is that the tour it documented was rock's first ever to boast corporate sponsorship, from a cheap cologne called Jovan Musk. If you can't really imagine the Beatles heading out on a tour sponsored by Blue Stratos, then here was early evidence of the Stones' redoubtable refusal to let dignity get in the way of making cash.
Accordingly, in the latest round of Stones reissues, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out! has been afforded a lavish treatment denied, say, Flashpoint, a 1991 live album whose big selling points are a guest appearance from Eric Clapton and a new song called, alas, Sex Drive. It now comes with a DVD, with the album expanded to three CDs, one devoted to support acts BB King and Ike and Tina Turner. The latter's set hails from a juncture in Tina Turner's career when her USP was to imbue every song with the suggestion that she was about to drop the microphone and furnish someone with the filthiest sexual experience of their life. Here, Otis Redding's wracked I've Been Loving You Too Long suddenly becomes a song about impossibly dirty sex. So does the Beatles' countercultural exhortation Come Together. You suspect that if she'd chosen to essay David Bowie's The Laughing Gnome, she'd have made that sound like it was about impossibly dirty sex as well.
She sounds like a tough act to follow, and so it proved. If you've never heard Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, but you're aware of its reputation – a contemporary Rolling Stone review proclaimed it "the best rock concert ever put on record" – it's hard not to feel deflated. There are certainly great things here, among them the slashing, chaotic Jumping Jack Flash, a version of Live With Me that positively seethes with evil, and one of Mick Jagger's between-song announcements, during which he repeatedly yells "we're awl-RIGHT!" in exactly the same manner as Neil Kinnock once did, with disastrous results, at a Labour rally in Sheffield.
But equally, there are moments when you're evidently no more listening to the best rock concert ever put on record than you are the Massed Bands of the Coldstream Guards: the bafflingly popular serial-killer-themed Midnight Rambler plods on and on as if the murderer despatched his victims by boring them to death, while Sympathy for the Devil arrives utterly devoid of Satanic menace. There's something horribly lackadaisical about its jaunty chug, the guitar solo extended but denuded of its violent sting: an air of "this'll do", which it clearly did. As evidenced by the sound of a wall-eyed girl in the crowd crying "play Paint It Black, you devils", the Stones' audience had moved from screaming at the band to doing something more damaging: worshipping them as superhuman.
It's hard to keep your standards up when people will accept pretty much anything from you, hence the reviews Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! received in the teeth of its audibly uneven quality. For every raw and thrilling Street Fighting Man, there's a bloated disaster like Stray Cat Blues. Whether you feel a song about having it off with an underage girl is a cheerily licentious reminder of an age before Political Correctness Went Mad, or a revolting bulletin from an era when rock contained enough casual misogyny to make a gangsta rap album's lyrics look like the United Nations Convention On the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet. That version resembles the stuff from which parental nightmares are made: a moneyed, arrogant, impossibly beautiful rock star pinging your pubescent daughter's knicker elastic. Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them.
Indeed, what Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! sounds most like is the 60s waning before your very ears. There are flashes of greatness, but the white-knuckle innovation of 1965-67 has audibly gone, replaced by complacent jamming. The opening announcement of "the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world" smacks not of the thrillingly overheated fairground barking of pop earlier in the decade, but of the smug triumphalism that would ultimately provoke punk. It certainly captured a moment: just not the one its adherents think.
-------------------------------------
The review smells of someone who really doesn't get the Stones...
Re: Guardian: Ya Yas Review
Posted by:
rollmops
()
Date: November 27, 2009 20:18
The versions of Midnight Rambler and Sympathy for the Devil on GYYYO are fantastic. Alexis Petridis is out of his mind.
Rock and Roll,
Mops
Rock and Roll,
Mops
Re: Guardian: Ya Yas Review
Posted by:
paulywaul
()
Date: November 27, 2009 20:20
Quote
LastStopThisTown
guardian ya yas review
The Rolling Stones: Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!
It's 1969, it's the Rolling Stones – and it's the sound of music dying on its feet, says Alexis Petridis
Alexis Petridis
guardian.co.uk, Thursday 26 November 2009 15.00 GMT
Article history
Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! occupies a unique place within the dread pantheon of Rolling Stones live albums, of which there are many, but virtually none a rational human being would want to listen to. It is held as the official document of the Stones onstage at their 1969 peak, before their gigs became notable largely for their decadence or ability to generate money. The most interesting thing about 1982's Still Life (American Concert) is that the tour it documented was rock's first ever to boast corporate sponsorship, from a cheap cologne called Jovan Musk. If you can't really imagine the Beatles heading out on a tour sponsored by Blue Stratos, then here was early evidence of the Stones' redoubtable refusal to let dignity get in the way of making cash.
Accordingly, in the latest round of Stones reissues, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out! has been afforded a lavish treatment denied, say, Flashpoint, a 1991 live album whose big selling points are a guest appearance from Eric Clapton and a new song called, alas, Sex Drive. It now comes with a DVD, with the album expanded to three CDs, one devoted to support acts BB King and Ike and Tina Turner. The latter's set hails from a juncture in Tina Turner's career when her USP was to imbue every song with the suggestion that she was about to drop the microphone and furnish someone with the filthiest sexual experience of their life. Here, Otis Redding's wracked I've Been Loving You Too Long suddenly becomes a song about impossibly dirty sex. So does the Beatles' countercultural exhortation Come Together. You suspect that if she'd chosen to essay David Bowie's The Laughing Gnome, she'd have made that sound like it was about impossibly dirty sex as well.
She sounds like a tough act to follow, and so it proved. If you've never heard Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, but you're aware of its reputation – a contemporary Rolling Stone review proclaimed it "the best rock concert ever put on record" – it's hard not to feel deflated. There are certainly great things here, among them the slashing, chaotic Jumping Jack Flash, a version of Live With Me that positively seethes with evil, and one of Mick Jagger's between-song announcements, during which he repeatedly yells "we're awl-RIGHT!" in exactly the same manner as Neil Kinnock once did, with disastrous results, at a Labour rally in Sheffield.
But equally, there are moments when you're evidently no more listening to the best rock concert ever put on record than you are the Massed Bands of the Coldstream Guards: the bafflingly popular serial-killer-themed Midnight Rambler plods on and on as if the murderer despatched his victims by boring them to death, while Sympathy for the Devil arrives utterly devoid of Satanic menace. There's something horribly lackadaisical about its jaunty chug, the guitar solo extended but denuded of its violent sting: an air of "this'll do", which it clearly did. As evidenced by the sound of a wall-eyed girl in the crowd crying "play Paint It Black, you devils", the Stones' audience had moved from screaming at the band to doing something more damaging: worshipping them as superhuman.
It's hard to keep your standards up when people will accept pretty much anything from you, hence the reviews Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! received in the teeth of its audibly uneven quality. For every raw and thrilling Street Fighting Man, there's a bloated disaster like Stray Cat Blues. Whether you feel a song about having it off with an underage girl is a cheerily licentious reminder of an age before Political Correctness Went Mad, or a revolting bulletin from an era when rock contained enough casual misogyny to make a gangsta rap album's lyrics look like the United Nations Convention On the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet. That version resembles the stuff from which parental nightmares are made: a moneyed, arrogant, impossibly beautiful rock star pinging your pubescent daughter's knicker elastic. Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them.
Indeed, what Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! sounds most like is the 60s waning before your very ears. There are flashes of greatness, but the white-knuckle innovation of 1965-67 has audibly gone, replaced by complacent jamming. The opening announcement of "the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world" smacks not of the thrillingly overheated fairground barking of pop earlier in the decade, but of the smug triumphalism that would ultimately provoke punk. It certainly captured a moment: just not the one its adherents think.
-------------------------------------
The review smells of someone who really doesn't get the Stones...
No truer thing said. This album is in a league of its own. Anyone that even remotely "gets it" knows that. And anyway, who the f**k takes a Guardian review of anything at all seriously ?
Re: Guardian: Ya Yas Review
Posted by:
rlngstns
()
Date: November 27, 2009 21:00
Quote
paulywaulQuote
LastStopThisTown
guardian ya yas review
The Rolling Stones: Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!
It's 1969, it's the Rolling Stones – and it's the sound of music dying on its feet, says Alexis Petridis
Alexis Petridis
guardian.co.uk, Thursday 26 November 2009 15.00 GMT
Article history
Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! occupies a unique place within the dread pantheon of Rolling Stones live albums, of which there are many, but virtually none a rational human being would want to listen to. It is held as the official document of the Stones onstage at their 1969 peak, before their gigs became notable largely for their decadence or ability to generate money. The most interesting thing about 1982's Still Life (American Concert) is that the tour it documented was rock's first ever to boast corporate sponsorship, from a cheap cologne called Jovan Musk. If you can't really imagine the Beatles heading out on a tour sponsored by Blue Stratos, then here was early evidence of the Stones' redoubtable refusal to let dignity get in the way of making cash.
Accordingly, in the latest round of Stones reissues, Get Yer Ya Ya's Out! has been afforded a lavish treatment denied, say, Flashpoint, a 1991 live album whose big selling points are a guest appearance from Eric Clapton and a new song called, alas, Sex Drive. It now comes with a DVD, with the album expanded to three CDs, one devoted to support acts BB King and Ike and Tina Turner. The latter's set hails from a juncture in Tina Turner's career when her USP was to imbue every song with the suggestion that she was about to drop the microphone and furnish someone with the filthiest sexual experience of their life. Here, Otis Redding's wracked I've Been Loving You Too Long suddenly becomes a song about impossibly dirty sex. So does the Beatles' countercultural exhortation Come Together. You suspect that if she'd chosen to essay David Bowie's The Laughing Gnome, she'd have made that sound like it was about impossibly dirty sex as well.
She sounds like a tough act to follow, and so it proved. If you've never heard Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out!, but you're aware of its reputation – a contemporary Rolling Stone review proclaimed it "the best rock concert ever put on record" – it's hard not to feel deflated. There are certainly great things here, among them the slashing, chaotic Jumping Jack Flash, a version of Live With Me that positively seethes with evil, and one of Mick Jagger's between-song announcements, during which he repeatedly yells "we're awl-RIGHT!" in exactly the same manner as Neil Kinnock once did, with disastrous results, at a Labour rally in Sheffield.
But equally, there are moments when you're evidently no more listening to the best rock concert ever put on record than you are the Massed Bands of the Coldstream Guards: the bafflingly popular serial-killer-themed Midnight Rambler plods on and on as if the murderer despatched his victims by boring them to death, while Sympathy for the Devil arrives utterly devoid of Satanic menace. There's something horribly lackadaisical about its jaunty chug, the guitar solo extended but denuded of its violent sting: an air of "this'll do", which it clearly did. As evidenced by the sound of a wall-eyed girl in the crowd crying "play Paint It Black, you devils", the Stones' audience had moved from screaming at the band to doing something more damaging: worshipping them as superhuman.
It's hard to keep your standards up when people will accept pretty much anything from you, hence the reviews Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! received in the teeth of its audibly uneven quality. For every raw and thrilling Street Fighting Man, there's a bloated disaster like Stray Cat Blues. Whether you feel a song about having it off with an underage girl is a cheerily licentious reminder of an age before Political Correctness Went Mad, or a revolting bulletin from an era when rock contained enough casual misogyny to make a gangsta rap album's lyrics look like the United Nations Convention On the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, it's hard to deny the song's power – at least in its studio incarnation on Beggars Banquet. That version resembles the stuff from which parental nightmares are made: a moneyed, arrogant, impossibly beautiful rock star pinging your pubescent daughter's knicker elastic. Here, however, it lumbers painfully by, like a middle-aged park flasher trying to catch up with a group of schoolgirls in order to wave his balls at them.
Indeed, what Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out! sounds most like is the 60s waning before your very ears. There are flashes of greatness, but the white-knuckle innovation of 1965-67 has audibly gone, replaced by complacent jamming. The opening announcement of "the greatest rock'n'roll band in the world" smacks not of the thrillingly overheated fairground barking of pop earlier in the decade, but of the smug triumphalism that would ultimately provoke punk. It certainly captured a moment: just not the one its adherents think.
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The review smells of someone who really doesn't get the Stones...
No truer thing said. This album is in a league of its own. Anyone that even remotely "gets it" knows that. And anyway, who the f**k takes a Guardian review of anything at all seriously ?
F**K'en eh!...agreed
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
71Tele
()
Date: November 27, 2009 23:53
What a smug and idiotic review. He doesn't even mention Taylor's majestic playing on Love In Vain,the guitar interplay on Satisfaction, and a host of other great musical moments. His assesment of SFTD and Rambler are preposterous. The Stones could certainly be fairly accused of "this'll do" in some later tours, but not this one. This live album set the standard.
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
studiorambo
()
Date: November 27, 2009 23:56
Is there anyway we can hurt him?
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
sirdoug
()
Date: November 28, 2009 00:02
Took a short gaze. Not even worth reading...so I didn't.
Re: Guardian: Ya Yas Review
Posted by:
SwayStones
()
Date: November 28, 2009 20:27
Quote
paulywaul
[.And anyway, who the f**k takes a Guardian review of anything at all seriously ?
As a Frenchman ,I know how things stands on the Guardian & the Sun reviews....
As a review ,I thought this would be an interesting lead .
I am a Frenchie ,as Mick affectionately called them in the Old Grey Whistle Test in 1977 .
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
respectable2009
()
Date: November 28, 2009 22:54
I'm thinking that the Ya-Yas versions of at least SYMPATHY,RAMBLER,CAROL,LOVE IN VAIN and LIVE WITH ME are better than their studio counterparts. This review is way off base.
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
MKjan
()
Date: November 28, 2009 23:04
Yet another tawdry journalist with delusions of adequacy on the express to oblivion.
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
Single Malt
()
Date: November 28, 2009 23:16
Well, it's funny that a man who looks like that is writing about The Stones. He should stick to gutter press fashion tips for people who have no understanding of taste...
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
misterfrias
()
Date: November 28, 2009 23:30
Quote
still ill
How difficult would it have been for the Guardian to find a picture from 1969,nevermind labeling a Wood era pic as being from 'circa 1972'. quote]
I was wondering the same thing!!!
The Altamont 40th Anniversary video clip at the bottom of the review was interesting.
[www.guardian.co.uk]
Greetings from the Jersey Shore.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
jamesfdouglas
()
Date: November 28, 2009 23:38
Quote
studioramboQuote
still ill
I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
I've always thought it's a bit of a "skip" compared to the studio master.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Back in 94 my Stones band ONLY wanted to do it like the Ya-Ya's version. Not me. When I heard the Four Flicks version I thought 'finally, Stray Cat Blues'!!!!
[thepowergoats.com]
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
Turd On The Run
()
Date: November 29, 2009 00:11
What a spectacularly snarky and misguided attempt at a review. I won't even go into specifics...the entire tone of the piece is amateurish. The comments about Stray Cat Blues, Midnight Rambler, and even Tina Turner's set are brain-dead misreadings of scorching, epic performances. The reviewers' analytical mis-comprehension of the context that this recording must be listened to 40 years after the fact is pathetic to read. Ya Ya's is epochal...a stunning document of the Stones at a peak period, and the Guardian reviewer - obviously an unfortunate product of inbreeding - has the blind arrogance of unwitting ignorance as his only tool in attempting to understand what he's hearing.
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
whitem8
()
Date: November 29, 2009 07:58
Totally agree Turd. The review is very amateur! This is a total non fan who has been biding his time to slag off the Stones and uses a classic album as an attempt to trojan horse his point of view across a large reading audience. Ridiculous.
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
squando
()
Date: November 29, 2009 09:16
Man that was hard to wade thru. The guy likes going on. He clearly dislikes the Stones so why review them?
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
skipstone
()
Date: November 29, 2009 10:27
Sorry, no, that version of Stray Cat is SUPREME.
Re: Guardian review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
Doxa
()
Date: November 29, 2009 10:59
I wrote my thoughts about this 'review' in the long Ya-Yas's thread (where it is as well as some other idiot review) but I copypaste my point here as well:
What bugs me is that when a new Stones album is released it is praised to hell no matter how mediocre it is. That's been the rule since I remember. From UNDERCOVER on. I think it also shows a lot of idiocy from a paper to let people who obviously are anti-Stones to review an album that without ANY reasonable doubt is a part of modern cultural history. The same would be if the re-issues of the Beatles catalog would be given to be reviewed by a person who does not appreciate the band at all.
There are things that go beyond the average capacity of 'critic' to an effect that an opinion of a random person does not mean a shit any longer. If one does not 'get it' why something is appreciated as much at it is, and as important as it is, I think a decent person with a minimal judgment will look at a mirror or at least understands to be shut up. Or a decent media would have a dignity enough to not release such a crap.
- Doxa
Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 2009-11-29 11:05 by Doxa.
What bugs me is that when a new Stones album is released it is praised to hell no matter how mediocre it is. That's been the rule since I remember. From UNDERCOVER on. I think it also shows a lot of idiocy from a paper to let people who obviously are anti-Stones to review an album that without ANY reasonable doubt is a part of modern cultural history. The same would be if the re-issues of the Beatles catalog would be given to be reviewed by a person who does not appreciate the band at all.
There are things that go beyond the average capacity of 'critic' to an effect that an opinion of a random person does not mean a shit any longer. If one does not 'get it' why something is appreciated as much at it is, and as important as it is, I think a decent person with a minimal judgment will look at a mirror or at least understands to be shut up. Or a decent media would have a dignity enough to not release such a crap.
- Doxa
Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 2009-11-29 11:05 by Doxa.
Re: Another review of Get Yer Ya Ya's
Posted by:
Ringo
()
Date: November 29, 2009 11:09
Quote
still ill
I don't entirely disagree with hie assessment of Stray Cat though,i don't think it ever worked well live regardless of Taylors lead work.
I think the studio version is better than the Ya-Ya's version (which still is brilliant), but here's my favourite version - Leeds 1971:
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