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Green LadyQuote
Send It To me
"You can cream on me" - Dude, whaaaaat?
Yeah - if that line was in Rough Justice everyone would be complaining about how crass the lyrics are these days.
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rocker1
The weakest song on the album, and it's not even close.
A throwaway which rides on the coattails of the greatness of the surrounding numbers. Any affection for this song is not for the song itself, but for an era or for a time when the other songs reflected what was so great about the Stones.
The one steaming piece of shit on an album of otherwise shining gold nuggets.
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Send It To meQuote
Green LadyQuote
Send It To me
"You can cream on me" - Dude, whaaaaat?
Yeah - if that line was in Rough Justice everyone would be complaining about how crass the lyrics are these days.
Can you imagine if Brown Sugar were released today? A song full of erotic references to the enslavement of African-Americans. Yikes. Somehow, it manages not to offend. Still waiting for track talk for C--ksucker blues...
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71Tele
Bill Wyman played autoharp?
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whitem8
A brilliant sleazy swamp rocker that builds and builds like a marde gras of junkies and parasites dancing a slow waltz of death. The opening strains of the slide groaning like a casket opening. Keith drawing every last bit of juju from it until he pummels the opening acoustic riff like waking from a opium stupor. You can smell the incense, see the Moroccan rugs, floor cushions and a dirt encrusted finger nailed hand packing an opium bowl. Jagger drawls out the opening vocals like a slow ceremonial dagger sacrificing another thirteen year old on his idol throne of loin lust. Charlie just keeps a snapping hypnotic beat that after every stanza pushes the song just a little more forcefully. Jasmine tea and steel guitar engagements, now with an entire room full of hanger ons, and nymph acolytes circling in for more flesh and body fluids. You can cum on me. How can a perfect trance of debauchery be too long? It is the entire 60's meshed into a final realization of the darker currents that would propel the idealism of the 60's into deeper excess never before imagined. Let it Bleed is the end of Little Beaver and heralded in a youthful vampirism of lust and nihilism. A perfectly scripted piece of British blues, perfect. Go ahead and lean on me, just don't give me too much neck or I will bite.
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filstan
Nice writeup whitem8. I loved this song when I first heard it when the album was released and have always enjoyed how this translated to live renditions.Having read through this thread I can say that until now I have never heard Stones fans rag on LIB like this. Strange. My feeling is what's not to like?
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treaclefingersQuote
filstan
Nice writeup whitem8. I loved this song when I first heard it when the album was released and have always enjoyed how this translated to live renditions.Having read through this thread I can say that until now I have never heard Stones fans rag on LIB like this. Strange. My feeling is what's not to like?
eggsactly!
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His MajestyQuote
treaclefingersQuote
filstan
Nice writeup whitem8. I loved this song when I first heard it when the album was released and have always enjoyed how this translated to live renditions.Having read through this thread I can say that until now I have never heard Stones fans rag on LIB like this. Strange. My feeling is what's not to like?
eggsactly!
Yeah tis a bit eggy.
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whitem8
Thanks all! I appreciate the feedback...was in one of those moods with LIB cranked loud!
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whitem8
A brilliant sleazy swamp rocker that builds and builds like a marde gras of junkies and parasites dancing a slow waltz of death. The opening strains of the slide groaning like a casket opening. Keith drawing every last bit of juju from it until he pummels the opening acoustic riff like waking from a opium stupor. You can smell the incense, see the Moroccan rugs, floor cushions and a dirt encrusted finger nailed hand packing an opium bowl. Jagger drawls out the opening vocals like a slow ceremonial dagger sacrificing another thirteen year old on his idol throne of loin lust. Charlie just keeps a snapping hypnotic beat that after every stanza pushes the song just a little more forcefully. Jasmine tea and steel guitar engagements, now with an entire room full of hanger ons, and nymph acolytes circling in for more flesh and body fluids. You can cum on me. How can a perfect trance of debauchery be too long? It is the entire 60's meshed into a final realization of the darker currents that would propel the idealism of the 60's into deeper excess never before imagined. Let it Bleed is the end of Little Beaver and heralded in a youthful vampirism of lust and nihilism. A perfectly scripted piece of British blues, perfect. Go ahead and lean on me, just don't give me too much neck or I will bite.
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MathijsQuote
rocker1
The weakest song on the album, and it's not even close.
A throwaway which rides on the coattails of the greatness of the surrounding numbers. Any affection for this song is not for the song itself, but for an era or for a time when the other songs reflected what was so great about the Stones.
The one steaming piece of shit on an album of otherwise shining gold nuggets.
But it still is better than anything released after '89...So how would you describe that latter period than?
Mathijs
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whitem8
Polishing a turd. I just can't reconcile that at all. Let it Bleed is one of the most perfect albums made, and the song itself, pretty much defines an era. And it is a fantastic piece of hillbilly swamp blues. Timeless.
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with sssoul
[kickin off shoes] whitem8, let's dance!
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whitem8
A brilliant sleazy swamp rocker that builds and builds like a marde gras of junkies and parasites dancing a slow waltz of death. The opening strains of the slide groaning like a casket opening. Keith drawing every last bit of juju from it until he pummels the opening acoustic riff like waking from a opium stupor. You can smell the incense, see the Moroccan rugs, floor cushions and a dirt encrusted finger nailed hand packing an opium bowl. Jagger drawls out the opening vocals like a slow ceremonial dagger sacrificing another thirteen year old on his idol throne of loin lust. Charlie just keeps a snapping hypnotic beat that after every stanza pushes the song just a little more forcefully. Jasmine tea and steel guitar engagements, now with an entire room full of hanger ons, and nymph acolytes circling in for more flesh and body fluids. You can cum on me. How can a perfect trance of debauchery be too long? It is the entire 60's meshed into a final realization of the darker currents that would propel the idealism of the 60's into deeper excess never before imagined. Let it Bleed is the end of Little Beaver and heralded in a youthful vampirism of lust and nihilism. A perfectly scripted piece of British blues, perfect. Go ahead and lean on me, just don't give me too much neck or I will bite.
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KeithNacho
It fitted perfectly on the sloppy and high speed 1981-82 tour
Thanks much silver dagger! Very kind of you.Quote
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whitem8
A brilliant sleazy swamp rocker that builds and builds like a marde gras of junkies and parasites dancing a slow waltz of death. The opening strains of the slide groaning like a casket opening. Keith drawing every last bit of juju from it until he pummels the opening acoustic riff like waking from a opium stupor. You can smell the incense, see the Moroccan rugs, floor cushions and a dirt encrusted finger nailed hand packing an opium bowl. Jagger drawls out the opening vocals like a slow ceremonial dagger sacrificing another thirteen year old on his idol throne of loin lust. Charlie just keeps a snapping hypnotic beat that after every stanza pushes the song just a little more forcefully. Jasmine tea and steel guitar engagements, now with an entire room full of hanger ons, and nymph acolytes circling in for more flesh and body fluids. You can cum on me. How can a perfect trance of debauchery be too long? It is the entire 60's meshed into a final realization of the darker currents that would propel the idealism of the 60's into deeper excess never before imagined. Let it Bleed is the end of Little Beaver and heralded in a youthful vampirism of lust and nihilism. A perfectly scripted piece of British blues, perfect. Go ahead and lean on me, just don't give me too much neck or I will bite.
Mr White - you should be writing the lyrics for the next Stones album. This year's Booker prize goes to whitem8.
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Tantekäthe
superb album track and, in my book, among Mick Jagger's most impressive vocal efforts ever.
Unfortunately its subtle sleaziness does not seem to translate in a live setting, the "Stripped" version being a prime example. On "Stripped", this tune comes off as a generic hillbilly number which does not do any justice to the original.
The same could be said, by the way, about "It's Only Rock'n'Roll" which they sadly turned into a by-the-numbers Chuck Berry style R'n'R tune.