Rolling Stones Album: Beggars Banquet
Release Date: December 6, 1968
Label: Decca (UK), London (US)
Popular Songs:
Songs You Need to Listen To:
Written By: Andy Trcka
August 25, 2022
The Stones could have opened Beggars Banquet with “No Expectations” because the tunes summarized the times perfectly; everyone was agitated, wrapped up in their own emotions, but as far as where all this sentiment would lead, there were “No Expectations.” 1968 was quite a year, it seemed as if everyone was pulling a corner of society in a different direction, each pull met with an equally impassioned counter pull. Against the backdrop of an endless war, social mores governing everything from sexuality to race relations were changing. The idea of a single, unified America was becoming impossible to discern. Into this fervor the Rolling Stones introduced Beggars Banquet.
To some, Beggars Banquet was incendiary. Radio stations banned the album’s single “Streeting Fighting Man” and the album altogether. But an attentive listen reveals Beggars Banquet offers a narrative that pierces through the manic cultural anxieties of the late 60s and offers a vision of coexistence. By blending rock, blues, and folk, the music of Beggars represents the various factions of the American populace. Beggars demonstrates progress and tradition aren’t zero-sum, they can inhabit the same space. Beggars Banquet doesn’t fuel divisions; itinvites the listener to peer across cultural divides. Perhaps the Rolling Stones’ finest work, Beggars Banquet is a return to form following their brief foray into psychedelia. This album is the first in a string of albums that would constitute the band’s golden era. Let’s begin by looking at the construction of Beggars Banquet.
The Construction of Beggars Banquet
One important thing to note is that by this point in the Stones’ careers, lead guitarist Brian Jones’ influence was waning and Keith and Mick’s was waxing. This is the final album Brian Jones meaningfully contributed towards. In typical fashion, brought along with him his customary suitcase bursting with a variety of instruments. Thematically however, his influence was minimal to the point of being absent from the concluding tracks. Mr. Jones would appear on two tracks on the Stones next album (Let it Bleed), but for all intents and purposes, this is the end of the line for Brian and his brilliant contributions to the Rolling Stones. Who knows what could have been if addiction had not stolen him?
“That’s Brian playing [the slide guitar]. We were sitting around in a circle on the floor, singing and playing, recording with open mikes. That was the last time I remember Brian really being totally involved in something that was really worth doing.”
Mick Jagger via Rolling Stone Magazine
One spot where Jones left an imprint was “No Expectations.” According to Mick, this was the last time Brian was truly present in the studio. The song would go onto fame, particularly in bluegrass and country circles. A fun thing about classic albums is their songs often assume lives of their own. Covered by numerous artists, over generations, listeners are delighted to hear different orchestrations and compositions, each unique. It’s terrific fun arguing which version is the best. Numerous times I’ve left a discussion irritated because someone enjoyed a cover more than the original. With its relaxed pace, “No Expectations” found a home on many bluegrass and country efforts. Yonder Mountain String Band, John Hartford, and Waylon Jennings all covered the tune. For me, it is heartwarming to see Brian’s last constructive work be so well received. If the folks already mentioned isn’t affirmation enough, then take Johnny Cash’s word for it – Cash included a version on his Gone Girl album from 1978.
Beggars is largely an organic endeavor – sticking to straightforward rock and roots influences like country, blues, and folk. With the exception of “Stray Cat Blues” and “Jigsaw Puzzle,” the experimentation of Stones efforts from late 1966 and 1967 were largely abandoned. Songwise we’re given five rockers and five folk-leaning tunes. This equation is balanced and will become more understandable as we explore the themes of the album.
Integral to the album were some interesting people who made their way into the Stones’ orbit in ’68: Gram Parsons, Nicky Hopkins, and reportedly, Ry Cooder. The exact breadth of their contributions is debated, but according to liner notes, these interlopers provided harmonica, piano, guitar, percussion, and even the sitar! These friends/contributors weren’t the only participants stamping the record with their eccentricities; Charlie supposedly played a toy drum set on “Street Fighting Man” and possibly other tunes. For acoustic purposes, Charlie also was recorded playing an African tom tom in a stairwell. Recording in a stairwell…it’s a testament to their ingenuity but also a tribute to how far recording technology has advanced.
Toy drum sets and sporadic acoustic experimentations aside, Beggars was a change of direction from its psychedelic predecessor, Their Satanic Majesties Request (TSMR). There are some threads connecting the two, but they are just that, threads. The song that would be most comfortable residing in either TSMR or Beggars Banquet would be “Jigsaw Puzzle.” “Jigsaw Puzzle” has the feel of a man pouring out his emotions…leaving him to feel like little more than a piece of a puzzle, and he doesn’t have the puzzle box for reference! That sort of feeling is a nerve-wracked, confused and directionless feeling – the sort of feeling many people were walking around with in the late 60s. As Mick sings, his desperation grows louder, eventually bursting to a frenzy. Musically it sounds as if every participant is screaming, letting their emotions overcome them. Piercing through this cacophony is the piano of Nicky Hopkins. Throughout Beggars you’ll hear Nicky’s keys lead the songs.
With psychedelic influences absent, a folky bluesyness prevails. This isn’t the trademark bluesy sound that by 1968 folks came to expect from the Rolling Stones. That sort of blues sounded as if it escaped from Chess Studios in Chicago. Beggars also wasn’t born of the country that was spreading from Nashville’s Music Row. Beggars feels deeper, more visceral, organic, almost as it rose from the streets. Beggars Banquet has an Earthy feel. It’s raw and almost punk in the sense it is unrefined. It’s not polished or clean, but damn does it pull you in.
Who’s Responsible for the folky feel?
This period of the Stones’ career is remarkable. Moving very quickly, 1967 and 1968 saw three albums for the Stones, four if you count the outtakes/B-sides collection Flowers. The same thing rings true in other classic rock circles. A year’s span in the late 60s for the Beatles was the difference between “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” and “Back In The U.S.S.R.” If legend is to be believed, Gram Parsons met the Stones in these fast-moving couple years. The same legend purports Gram dropped off the Byrd’s 1968 tour because he disapproved of playing in segregated South Africa. Obviously, that’s admirable, but there’s also speculation Mr. Parsons’ real motivation for leaving was he was enjoying hanging out in London with the Stones.
“What he really wanted to do was hang out with Mick and Keith. They were in his ear: ‘Don’t go to South Africa, Don’t go to South Africa’.”
Chris Hillman via Far Out Magazine
All this is worth mentioning for a couple of reasons. The first being despite dying at the young age of 26, Gram Parsons was wildly influential. In his short years he’s attributed with founding the rock/country hybrid genre “Cosmic Americana.” Modern-day alternative country (alt-country) evolved from Cosmic Americana. Tift Merritt, Drive By Truckers, Wilco, and innumerable others were influenced by Gram. The second reason Gram is worth mentioning is because his friendship with the Stones was rumored to be consequential to the point of teaching Keith how to play country-style guitar. Despite this connection, and a timeline that somewhat corroborates his being in London for at least part of the recording of Beggars, I don’t attribute the earthy feel to Gram. Gram’s is a more honky-tonk, performative sort of country; a showier version of the genre than what is heard on Beggars Banquet. For example, “Dear Doctor” and “No Expectations” feel more like a Saturday afternoon picnic than a Saturday evening concert. Simply put, Beggars Banquet sounds more folk than country.
Brian Jones’ harmonica on “Dear Doctor” is grounding. It’s a necessary ballast within a tune that seems to want to go wild. But with his influence in decline I don’t figure him responsible for the country/folky overtones. On “No Expectations” Nicky Hopkins again figures prominently, but since his efforts are more frequently signature in the album’s fast-moving, rockier songs, he can be dismissed as the primary country influence. On the front side of the album, “Parachute Woman” is the third country-leaning song in a row. “Parachute Woman” is country but also harkens to the blues of the early Stones. This mishmash of styles is a terrific example of the imprint the Stones were putting on the blues; by 1968 they are solidly contributing to both rock and the blues.
The rawness of Beggars courses through the album’s rock songs where anger, energy, mischievous, and frustration flow like water through a firehose. The Devil even lurks about, delivering his resume and serving as the protagonist in “Sympathy for the Devil.” I have to hand it to Lucifer, he pens a good song! “Street Fighting Man,” and “Sympathy for the Devil” – here we have Jagger/Richards at their lyrical best; these songs speak to the angst of the 60s and the various evil movements coursing through humanity throughout history. The album is a tightrope walk between opposing caucuses of society: those rooted in tradition, and others pressing for change. “Sympathy” and “Street Fighting Man” offer the listener opportunities to let loose, to scream their frustrations. We’ll revisit these songs in the back half of the review when we talk about the thematic structure of the album.
“Jumping Jack Flash”
Sounding the alarm that the Rolling Stones moved on from experimentation and were returning to their blues rock roots, the boys released “Jumping Jack Flash” as a single in the summer of 1968. “Jumping Jack Flash” is a rock anthem, typically situated at or near the conclusion of Stones’ concerts. I was born in 1979, so much of the Rolling Stones catalog I’ve enjoyed in hindsight. Enjoying music in hindsight affords the luxury of selecting when and how often you listen to it. Others grew up with the songs as they were released, experiencing the song in real-time. These folks might have found the tune inescapable, blaring out from every station as they turned the dial. Oversaturated, some might have heard it so often that it unfortunately morphed into background music. Such is often the fate of megahits. Like pumpkin spice or George Foreman grills, they become basic. Heading into a concert most hard-core fans have a list of tunes they want to hear and that list isn’t typically littered with hits. “Prodigal Son,” “Sitting on a Fence,” and “Worried About You,” these sorts of tunes would be on my list. But as a Stones concert progresses the scene engulfs you, for those few hours your world is the Stones. By the time “Jumping Jack Flash” rolls off the stage you’re high-fiving, dancing, singing along, cheering…gone is your list! “Jumping Jack Flash” predates Beggars Banquet by about 6 months and while not on the album, sets the stage for what is to come – a return to form.
As you might expect, “Jumping Jack Flash” is not hard to find. So me pointing you in the direction of a good version is a bit like advising you where to buy Budweiser or where to see Santa Claus in December. Many versions are out there and some are better than others. One worth your attention is from Live on Copacabana Beach. This show is from their A Bigger Bang Tour of the mid-2000s. You would be correct to be confused – for decades, maybe centuries, the nature of the Big Bang (the event that created the universe) was subject to exhaustive research by the world’s best scientists and physicists. All their work, all their efforts rendered worthless because the Rolling Stones released A Bigger Bang in 2006 – an event that eclipsed the Big Bang! Seriously, the “Jumping Jack Flash” version featured in the Copacabana show is a lot of fun. Dislodged from its customary closing position in a setlist, here it is the show’s opener. Sometimes the orchestrations of later Stones concerts can be a bit overdone, but on Copacabana, the core members lead the band, not to be overcrowded by horns, synthesizer or others contributors. “Jumping Jack Flash” at the beginning of a concert sets up a blistering affair!
Versions of “Jumping Jack Flash” from their Golden Era are fun, especially with Mick Taylor contributing his bluesy brand of guitar, but sometimes the recordings are a bit quiet. So you have to really turn it up loud to appreciate. Check out 2017’s release, Ladies and Gentlemen, The Rolling Stones for a very listenable rendition of “Flash” performed live in 1972.
Lastly, and I acknowledge I am sounding a bit like a broken record pointing you in this direction, check out the Some Girls: Live in Texas ’78 show for an ENERGIZED version of “Jumping Jack Flash.” This whole show sounds like it’s been hooked up to a million-watt generator. Fast-paced and damn fun!
One of my favorites on the album, firmly in the rock contingency of Beggars’ tunes, “Stray Cat Blues” is a flat-out party. Everyone joins in for this rocker. There’s little depth behind the formation of this tune. This is just the boys cutting loose, having fun. The classic tandem of Keith and Mick, coupled with Hopkins’ piano drives, “Stray Cat Blues.” “Stray Cat” is outsized in its importance as it provides us a peek at what the Stones rock sound/persona will evolve into. Buoying the quick tempo’d “Stray Cat” is “Prodigal Son,” the Stones retelling of the bible story that recounts the unconditional love of a father for his wayward son.
“Prodigal Son” draws the undesirable task of coming after “Street Fighting Man (SFM)” in the track listing. Outwardly, with its country feel, “Prodigal Son” comes off as a counterbalance to the energy and political sentiments erupting from “Street Fighting man.” In reality, the song’s resonate bassline and percussion couple to form a palpable tension, demonstrating the energy from “SFM” didn’t dissipate, but rather was left simmering. Written by Reverend Robert Wilkins, “Prodigal Son” is a literal retelling of Parable of the Prodigal Son – one of the most defining tales of redemption not only of the bible, but in all of history and literature. The love and joy poured out by a father welcoming home his wayward son is a model for all of us to live by; always act out of love and never linger bad. This is a sentiment worth remembering. Thus far we’ve talked about some great tunes, but we still have some rocks to look under in hope of identifying the source of Beggars’ earthiness.
One person we haven’t explored yet is the album’s producer, Jimmy Miller. Banquet was the first of five consecutive albums he’d produce for the Stones. What a run of albums they were, four of the five are amongst rock’s finest! His tenure aligns almost perfectly with the band’s Golden Era. For many, when they think of the Stones, they think of this span of albums (1968 – 1974). Spending that much fruitions time with Mick and the boys as their producer, it’s reasonable to consider Miller as responsible for the feel of Beggars Banquet. Ultimately, after a listen to other albums he was involved with in 1968 and 1969, it becomes obvious Miller wasn’t the driving force behind the earthy feel of Beggars. For example, Traffic’s Mr. Fantasy and self-titled debut share similarities with Beggars Banquet, but also feature loads more experimental sounds and techniques. Indian music, psychedelia, and other quirky playfulness define Traffic’s early albums. Add it all up and these heavy eccentricities differentiate Miller’s other work in this era from the Rolling Stones. Sonically, there are shared qualities, but given the lyrical and stylistic weight of Beggars Banquet, it’s earthiness isn’t defined merely by sonic qualities. As such, despite leaving an imprint on the album, Miller is dismissed as a prime suspect. There are two folks we haven’t discussed in detail yet, and they are very prominent and likely suspects: Keith and Mick.
I contest the rawness of Beggars is a result of Mick and Keith’s burgeoning leadership. As already noted, Jones’ leadership in the studio was steeply in decline and Mick and Keith were filling his void. Because they weren’t yet fully cemented as the band’s leaders, Richards and Jagger exercised soft leadership; conceptually steering the album but accommodating (if not full-on encouraging) Miller and other participants to stamp it with their unique imprints. Simply put, Beggars is a collaborative effort. There is no star on Beggars Banquet. For example, Mick’s singing won’t grab you ala Emotional Rescue. Nor is the guitar play as distinctive as other editions of Stonesyness like Some Girls or Black and Blue. What we have in Beggars Banquet is an album that shines, but no single component shines most brilliantly. In many respects this is the last of the 60s albums of the Stones, the last of their truly collaborative efforts. From here onwards Mick and Keith are the codified leaders of the Rolling Stones. Five folky (blues/country) songs, five rockers, all encased in a raw earthy feel – that is the musical structure of Beggars Banquet. But this isn’t a jazz album, to digest Beggars simply on it’s structural (musical) qualities would be to do it a disservice.
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1968, 2020s…
“[1968] I was in the army, going through my own version of heavy shit of the time (as a medic in the ICU of an evac hospital; very much like MASH, except buildings instead of tents; and just as fucked up and crazy). Beggars Banquet was a much needed jolt at the time.” – Lou Bartholome
Sometimes history is best told by a participant. For example, Huck Finn had to be a Southerner or his story would have fallen on deaf ears; just another Northerner telling Southerners how to live. Other times observers are best suited to tell a story – Beggars is such a case. Beggars Banquet is the product of a group who were fascinated by America. They love our music and cherish our folk traditions, but being British, are looking from the outside in. The Stones were observing us at a fragile moment. In the creation of Beggars Banquet, specifically the inclusion of thought-provoking songs like “Street Fighting Man,” “Sympathy for the Devil,” and “Prodigal Son,” they are not siding with one faction or another. Instead, by the blending of folk sounds representing traditional elements of society with the revolutionary sounds of rock, they create a sonic tapestry that offers hope for coexistence. Ultimately the album leaves listeners in a joyful jubilance by producing a couple of closing tunes that meld rock and folk, progress and tradition: “Salt of the Earth” and “Factory Girl.” Right now let’s turn our gaze to the year 1968 and explore some of the circumstances that informed the thematic composition of Beggars Banquet.
First, let us consider, Maybe Beggars is just a Good Rock Album…An expression of Angered Youth?By this time in the Stones’ career they’ve been at it a while. Beggars Banquet is the Stones ninth album. Their success has granted them access to the best recording studios, engineers, and equipment. By now they have met the creators of the American blues and rock they so love: Muddy Waters, Chuck Berry, Jimmy Reed, and so on. Beyond respect, the Stones have forged friendships with the bluesmen they apprenticed under. By ’68 the Stones completed tours of the United States that enabled them to see every nook and cranny of the country. Along the way they gained a familiarity with American music their younger selves would never have thought possible. Given all this, perhaps Beggars Banquet is nothing more than the natural culmination of their training, melding the sounds they love into a fantastic rock album. Perhaps the sinister pulse of “Sympathy for the Devil” was just a thought experiment? Maybe the album is just the shouting of youth; a generation ready to make their impact. This is certainly a possible explanation, but I don’t believe this is the case. Even if this were true, and Beggars is just a blues/rock record, the album resonates beyond its intention. Fifty years later it coursed through my thoughts during the George Floyd unrest of 2020. In the late 60s it offered respite to folks beleaguered by the Vietnam War. For these reasons, and because of the multitudes of others it inspired, upon its release, it was considered pesky enough to be banned (in some circles). That is quite an outsized impact for an album that is just a soundly honed piece of blues rock.
Watchers of history remind us exact dates and years are good only for reference. What is important is to note the underlying social movements and events in a given period of time. Ideally, understanding why things occurred will help stave off future iterations of troubles. Ultimately this is true, but the reality is some years cement themselves into memory. Mull these years over 1776, 1865, 1941, 1945, 2001, 2020. Each features its own distinctive circumstances and creates vivid pictures in your mind. 1968 was one such year.
The fifty-some years preceding 1968 saw a Great Depression and two World Wars. Each of these events (specifically the recovery following these events) were opportunities to level the economic playing field for African Americans. Unfortunately, in each situation America chose to not improve the economic or social standing of African Americans. Worse yet, repression has spillover effects resulting in depressed wages across the board. In a nutshell, the economic system that was working for some, but not for others. Adding to these economic and societal stressors, the country was knee-deep in another war. It felt as if society was on a treadmill of misery, war after war. A counterculture formed and pushed back against the “norms” of a society that was holding many in second class status, others in economic stagnation and limited personal expression, all against the backdrop of another war.
As a country that slogged through a deep depression. As a country that fought, nailed rivets or otherwise contributed to war efforts – many were proud of America and aghast at the irreverence of the counterculture, the irreverence of agitators. The society some sought to reform was the very same society that defeated fascism and a rampaging Japanese empire. Those who questioned our successes were unappreciative, disillusioned folks who couldn’t fathom the concept of sacrifice…agitators who threatened the strength of our country and left us vulnerable to the communists.
There were other stresses, this is just a summation. But understand this – 1968 was a charged year. And for many, the person who best represented the path forward, Martin Luther King Jr., was murdered outside a hotel room in Memphis, Tennessee on a spring day. If society were a teapot, it was whistling loudly.
Violent riots sprung up in cities across the country. My Dad, as part of the National Guard, was deployed to help quell the violence in North Minneapolis. I recall him speaking of the experience, but honestly, I didn’t pay it much attention. I figured it was something they went through over in Minneapolis, something that happened distantly. It was a moment he was a part of, but like a book after its read, sat on a shelf. It was a chapter of history and we had moved on. The socio-economic fabric of our Twin Cities had healed, the miseries and economic injustices that spawn that sort of violence were firmly relegated to the past. So I thought…
2020 likewise came along during a seemingly endless war. A pandemic forced us all underground and wasn’t loosening its grip anytime soon. Monday, May 25th, 2020, was the tail-end of a long holiday weekend, a very hot weekend. Being a weekend, I was distanced from the news but I also caught wind something happened over in Minneapolis. At first I didn’t pay it any mind. The “something” was a moment now familiar the world over – George Floyd’s murder. The video of his death was overtaking social media, the news, and conversations. Chelsea (my wife) told me to not watch the video because all it would do would make me angry. I ignored her and she was correct – I was upset. Fury, disappointment, helplessness, disgust, confusion, sadness – merge those together and that’s where I was at. The most constructive thing I saw fit to do was read his name, read it again, then read it again. I needed to remember his name: George Floyd. Others, disappointingly, met the moment with violence. Just like in 1968, people took to the streets. 2020 suddenly looked a lot like 1968.
When you ain’t got nothing, you got nothing to lose
Excerpt from “Like a Rolling Stone”
Songwriters: Bob Dylan
Label: Universal Music Publishing Group
Everywhere I hear the sound of marching charging feet, boy
‘Cause summer’s here and the time is right for fighting in the street, boy
Excerpt from “Street Fighting Man”
Songwriters: Keith Richards/Mick Jagger
Label: Rolling Stones Records
Because they are a pleasant distraction, during the unrest following Floyd’s murder, I loaded a cooler and pedaled around town dropping off Dilly Bars. Time moved quickly and racing to beat the onset of curfew I utilized a bike/pedestrian bridge over Interstate 94. Before entering the main span of the bridge, scrawled across the pavement a graffiti’d message read, “Bridge to White Side of Town.” Those few words described the geography of my town. Those words described why (spare sporadic shenanigans) the rioters never made their way into my neighborhood. Oh, they came close, but never closer than the Interstate would allow. If I had listened to my Dad and read that chapter resting on his bookshelf, I would have seen it read something like “Bridge to White Side of Town.” For me the grief of the unrest wasn’t just the awful violence, it was that fifty years later we were in a similar spot. My Dad wasn’t in the room, but we were looking at each other. The economic injustices hadn’t been solved, they were merely softened, put back on the shelf. Progress takes such a frightfully long time. I felt tremendous disappointment.
We’ve plenty to appreciate and cherish in my neighborhood. In other parts of the city a neighborhood is a constriction, a dead end. In these sorts of neighborhoods people feel as if they have little or no opportunity, no room to advance. In a moment like George Floyd’s murder or Luther King’s assassination, the alienation and hopelessness in some corners of a city lead people to think they have no recourse except to “fight in the street.” “Street Fighting Man” is not a call to violence; it asks us to understand why some people have no choice but to fight. In the fervor that was 1968, cognizant of their station in life, as members of a world-famous touring band, the Stones expelled their frustrations by doing what they do – singing. “Street Fighting Man” asks how do you respond to frustrations? What do you value that is worth fighting for?
Well now what can a poor boy do
Except to sing for a rock n’ roll band?
‘Cause in sleepy London town
There’s just no place for a street fighting man
Excerpt from “Street Fighting Man”
Songwriters Keith Richards/Mick Jagger
Label: Rolling Stones Records
Sympathy for the Devil
Essentially “Sympathy for the Devil” asks the listener to consider the motivations of the Devil. It’s simple inoculation: sympathizing with the Devil will help you avoid him. Rock and Roll in the late 60s was still young. Heck, in terms of an art form, rock and roll is still fairly youthful. I ask you…when contemplating the proclivities of the devil, would you rather a dry monologue to guide you, or a kick-ass rock song? What an awesome use for a song…exactly the sort of provocation rock and roll is intended for!
Exploring the motivations of the Devil shatters a long-held taboo. Sympathizing with the Devil made him relatable, and to many that was dangerous. To relate means to reveal one’s faults and digesting one’s faults is difficult work. Many prefer a transactional, more fictionalized version of evil. But that sort of Devil (as presented in Let It Bleed), the sort who shows up in stories like Robert Johnson selling his soul to become a great bluesman, rarely happens. Clinging to that vision of evil is easier because those dilemma type of moments almost never occur, thus numbing a person into thinking the Devil isn’t active in their life. It reduces faith to transaction. For example: sit in this pew, donate this amount of money, say these prayers, then good things will happen.
The reality is the Devil is omnipresent, floating around us like the air we breathe. Imagine you’re high above the earth, visualize the Devil and God (aka good and evil) encircling the Earth like weather systems…a constant push and pull, movement of good energy and bad. It’s up to us which energy we grab hold of. That is what “Sympathy for the Devil” asks us to do, note where the Devil is at work, note the negative energy he’s throwing your way. It’s easy to get lost in bad, really easy, but if you look, God is omnipresent too. As powerful as the devil is, he is also thin in agenda and purpose. As such, lacking a more robust purpose, the best evil can do is capture moments. He loves to derail; he loves confusion and doubt. Lucifer says it pretty straightforward throughout the song, reminding us his purpose is thin: “what’s confusing you is the nature of my game.” The accomplishments he boasts of, well…they are just moments. For example, “Stuck around St. Petersburg when I saw it was a time for a change.” The Stones aren’t asking us to jump on the side of the Devil. They are asking us to sympathize with him, and find out where he’s active in our lives so that in troublesome times, we recognize his shenanigans and choose another direction forward.
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name, oh yeah
But what’s confusin’ you
Is just the nature of my game, mm yeah
Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
‘Cause I’m in need of some restraint
So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politeness
Or I’ll lay your soul to waste, mm yeah
Pleased to meet you
Excerpt from “Sympathy for the Devil”
Songwriters Keith Richards/Mick Jagger
Label: Rolling Stones Records
Time to Celebrate! “Factory Girl” and “Salt of the Earth”
Fortunately, the Stones don’t adjourn the album with the soulful contemplation of the Devil, with the agitated inspiration of “Street Fighting Man, with the down-home piety of “Prodigal Son,” or point-blank confusion of “No Expectations.” Instead, the Stones send us off with a celebration, a reminder that there’s more good in the world than bad and that our differences ultimately can’t keep us apart.
Recall the pride you feel at the end of a constructive day. Now envision a gal walking out of a factory after her shift. She’s pleased and contented by a day’s work. Join her as she unwinds with peers at the neighborhood pub. Note the joy, the camaraderie; stories are told, memories shared. Smiles abound as a fiddle guides a band crammed onto a small stage. This is the sort of scene the Stones put us in with “Factory Girl.” It’s a celebration of the ordinary. A celebration of our labors and a reminder there is more love in the world than hate. Lead by the playful violin of session musician Ric Crech, “Factory Girl” is a spirited tune that invites us to cherish the positive in our daily grinds. But as more people pour into the pub, a full-blown reverie erupts.
The eruption is Beggars Banquet’s concluding track, “Salt of the Earth.” Where “Factory Girl” is an intimate celebration, “Salt of the Earth” is a full-on neighborhood-style festival. Richards’ guitar and Mick’s singing invite us in, but eventually all the musicians pile on, turning the tune into a fracas. Nicky on piano again, his notes fluttering about. I picture him in the middle of it all, pounding on the keys, the entire scene dancing around him. Gone are the agitations of “Street Fighting Man,” a reminder that good always triumphs…the Devil isn’t winning this moment! Ushered out by the pared-down duo of Hopkins’ piano and Charlie’s drumming, energized by the party, Beggars Banquet comes to an end, but your heartbeat thumps onward. This is an energized moment, a moment of joy and satisfaction.
As We Go Forward
“We [Hmong People] don’t have a “homeland;” America gave me a homeland” – Kou Vang
A short while ago, over a drink with my friends/coworkers Kou and Mark, Kou asked me: “you ever wonder why Mark and I get along so well?” I respected them for being avid Timberwolves fans, but because his tone felt earnest, and I couldn’t think of anything substantive, I responded that I had no idea. I literally had no idea. “We [Hmong people] don’t have a homeland. America gave my family a homeland. Mark is Jewish, they don’t have a homeland. People should never forget this is a place worth fighting to get to.” Kou’s words are perhaps more salient now than ever. Seemingly everyone is pissed off these days. Sometimes it takes an outsider or someone who knows what it’s like to be an outsider, such as Kou, to point out what’s special; to pierce through the anger and help people note things they take for granted. That’s ultimately what Beggars Banquet gives us – our story, told by a pack of outsiders, a group of Brits, asking us to be thoughtful as we move forward.
Let’s leave nothing to metaphor. To do so would be to waste Beggars Banquet. 1968 America was a time similar to America in the 2020s. Mick, Keith, and the rest of the crew on this album weren’t simply chiming in with their personal opinions or trying to push their own agendas. Beggars was written as the Stones were looking out, fixing their eyes on American streets. Through the language of hard-driving rock and timeless blues, Beggars Banquet is an invitation to live your emotions, but also to explore the emotions of others. We’re in a smoldering moment and there’s little doubt the Devil is active…active in his signature overt ways. As we move on from covid and George Floyd we can embrace good energy or bad, opportunity or tired traditions, love or hate. 1968, 2022…its all the same, we have to put one foot in front of the other and move on. Will we rise to the challenges before us? Or will we simply move on, committing another edition to the bookshelf next to other failed opportunities? To orient ourselves going forward, let us ponder these couple questions:
If it were 1968 would you ban Beggars Banquet?
America in 2022…Are you on board with banning books that speak about race?
Beggars Banquet is a fantastic album. It is to be enjoyed anywhere, anytime, in a group large or small. This is the Stones at the top of their game. Structurally speaking, the marriage of blues and rock is christened on Beggars. Brilliant songwriting, blending old and new sounds, that simultaneously allows us to peer into the psyche of the divine and asks us to celebrate everyday life; Beggars Banquet features the Stones at their lyrical best, a plateau they perhaps never reached again. All this while looking in from the outside…it’s American music they are pouring forth. Similar to Kou, reminding us “this is a place worth fighting to get to.”
| Track # | Title | Notes |
| 1 | Sympathy for the Devil | ! + |
| 2 | No Expectations | B |
| 3 | Dear Doctor | |
| 4 | Parachute Woman | $ |
| 5 | Jigsaw Puzzle | + |
| 6 | Street Fighting Man | ! |
| 7 | Prodigal Son | + * $ |
| 8 | Stray Cat Blues | + $ |
| 9 | Factory Girl | + $ |
| 10 | Salt of the Earth | + $ |
Beggars Banquet: Released 12/6/1968 by London and Decca Records – reviewed by Andy Trcka of Andy’s Stones
Legend: ! = hit, single or famous track, B = B-side to single, + = top track recommended by Andy’s Stones, $ = notable instrumentation or singing provided by supporting cast member (e.g. piano by Nicky Hopkins or percussion by Charlie Watts), * = Songwriting credits = Robert Wilkins
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