The Rolling Stones: Foreign Tongues review — a career high, in their eightiesMick Jagger et al sing about the state of America, ‘mad mogul Mr Musk’, drugs and death in their own inimitable way on this joyful blast of a new albumWill Hodgkinson
July 09 2026
It wasn’t quite Wembley Stadium. But at a time when a question mark hangs over the Rolling Stones’ future as a live band it was, unquestionably, a gig. With Keith Richards otherwise disposed, on Wednesday night Mick Jagger and Ronnie Wood picked up acoustic guitars and, backed by the touring member Matt Clifford on keyboards, played three songs in front of about 150 people in a hotel bar in central London. Celebrating the launch of
Foreign Tongues, a reduced version of the world’s greatest rock’n’roll band knocked out
Dead Flowers, a ragged country song from their 1971 classic
Sticky Fingers; a new one called
Ringing Hollow, introduced by Jagger as “a love letter to America” but actually more of a lament for what it has become; and the evergreen Y
ou Can’t Always Get What You Want, inspiring a singalong by the crowd, Rachel Weisz and Daniel Craig among them. I never thought I’d get to see James Bond shouting away to a Stones classic but there’s a first time for everything.
The small but glitzy event marked something remarkable: the Stones reaching a (very) late career high with
Foreign Tongues. It’s one thing to be a solo artist making great work in your late seventies and eighties, whether that’s Bob Dylan reflecting on death and the afterlife on 2020’s
Rough and Rowdy Ways or Paul McCartney reminiscing about the formation of the Beatles for this year’s
The Boys of Dungeon Lane.
A band, with its associations of camaraderie and adventure, do not have the same freedom, and anyway, Jagger has never been one for contemplating the passing of time and what lies beyond. Instead, the Stones have returned with an effervescent album that references their history, from the torn and frayed blues of
Exile on Main Street to the uptown sophistication of
Some Girls (albeit without the dubious references to the sexual proclivities of women of various ethnicities on that album’s title song), while making them sound relevant and fresh all over again.
The Stones are in essence a live band, and you have to hope that the album will precede their return to the stage. Last year the Stones cancelled a world tour, with Keith Richards feeling he couldn’t commit; he planned to stay at home in Connecticut as he became a great-grandfather for the first time. (Ella Richards, daughter of Keith’s son Marlon, gave birth to Luna Richards von Bismarck in May.) Arthritis has indeed forced the man known as the Human Riff to change his playing approach, but in 2024 the Stones were playing some of the best concerts of their career.
At the launch Jagger confirmed: “We hope we go on tour, Ronnie and I are really into that, so we hope we see everyone on the road.” A week earlier, Jagger told the Argentinian radio station La Nacion that the Stones were hoping to stage a proper world tour in 2027 rather than a Harry Styles-esque residency, because that would “cost twice as much” for fans to attend. For that reason we should hope the lack of a tour to go with this album is a temporary blip. After all, Jagger joined the kids at his old school, Dartford Grammar, for a song to mark the 25th anniversary of its Mick Jagger Centre last year, and sang in a folk session at a pub in Oxford in June, as well as the album launch set. But those are small gigs. We want the Stones to do big ones again.
Perhaps
Foreign Tongues is such a fully formed work because the enforced time off the road focused the band in the studio. The Stones recorded the better part of the album over a month in Metropolis, Chiswick, for the most part live, giving the album an urgency accordingly. And Jagger has touched on something he has for the most part avoided ever since the disaster of the Altamont Speedway concert in December 1969, where a young fan died at the hands of Hell’s Angels hired as security in the revolutionary spirit of the age: political commentary.
“Lady Liberty don’t look so good when there’s a tear in her gown,” Jagger sings on a sweet country ballad called
Ringing Hollow. At first it comes across as a standard-issue love song, before you realise it is actually a love letter to America as an idea and a reflection on whether the country the Stones fell in love with as kids is still there.
Even
Mr Charm, a seemingly preposterous sped-up rant about Jagger trying to seduce a woman via the unusual method of showing her images from the First World War, has something to say on what’s important in life. As he does his best to show the object of his affections how charming he is, Jagger points out that an evening with him is surely preferable to taking off into space with “mad mogul Mr Musk”. While the world’s first trillionaire and his unquenchable ego might get a boost from being in a Stones song, most people will be in agreement with Jagger on which is the more appealing option.
Elsewhere,
Foreign Tongues demonstrates how the Stones have never stuck to one genre or style and yet always end up sounding just like themselves.
Rough and Twisted goes back to the raw blues the band first got going with in the early 1960s, when they were doing Muddy Waters and Howlin’ Wolf covers and singing about an America they had no experience of, before their 19-year-old manager Andrew Loog-Oldham locked Jagger and Richards into a kitchen and told them they weren’t coming out until they wrote a song.
Jealous Lover, for which Steve Winwood contributes warm, rolling Fender Rhodes electric piano, is falsetto soul in the Curtis Mayfield tradition and also reminiscent of the Stones’ 1976 hit
Fool to Cry: tender and laid-back.
Within all this is a punk song, or at least a song that demonstrates Jagger’s idea of punk.
Hit Me in the Head is one of those pure Mick moments that have popped up on Stones albums for the past few decades. You can imagine it inspiring raised eyebrows and resigned sighs from Richards and Wood, as they indulge their singer while he chases after modern fashions, even if this particular fashion is now half a century old.
“One of these days I’ll fall down dead. And I’ll go a lot quicker if you hit me in the head,” he snarls against a ferocious tempo from the late Charlie Watts (he contributed to early recordings of the track before his death in 2021). And you realise this is the deepest Jagger will go when it comes to reflecting on mortality. For someone so eternally youthful, being bludgeoned to death with a hammer is surely preferable to a slow crawl toward decrepitude. He’s actually being quite profound here, in his own unsentimental way.
Not that a Rolling Stones album is all about the frontman. Richards still has a way of cranking out riffs so brilliantly simple you cannot believe nobody has come up with them before. A great one blasts through
In the Stars, the harmony-laden first single from the album.
Divine Intervention showcases Richards’ and Wood’s ability to weave their guitars so that you don’t know where one ends and the other begins.
It all leads to the Stones sounding exactly as they should, with the new drummer Steve Jordan honouring Watts’s unforced approach while whirling organs, country piano licks, funky cowbells and blasts of brass drop in along the way.
Credit must go to Andrew Watt, a 35-year-old pop producer from New York with a love of classic rock, who worked on the Stones’ 2023 album
Hackney Diamonds and McCartney’s new one. Oh yes, McCartney turns up too, playing bass on the
Some Girls-like funky rocker
Covered in You.
Watt has galvanised the Stones into action and brought out the best in them but it’s the band’s enduring spirit and chemistry that make
Foreign Tongues so vibrant. Richards is a traditionalist soaked in blues and country, Jagger loves all things new, Wood wants to keep the peace and keep on rocking, and all three know that for what amounts to a bar band done good, the Rolling Stones still have something unique, life-affirming and not entirely wholesome. It’s all there in this joyful album, a blast from beginning to end. (Polydor)

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