I once joked to my friend Iman that I could never be a real music critic because I’d never heard “Exile” or “The River”. Although the comment was very much off the cuff, it was rooted in a little bit of truth because I really had not heard those records from start to finish. Also, if you’re really a rock critic it’s your job to hear everything so that when you write something you can do a better job at convincing your readers that you actually know what you’re talking about.
I’ve never been that much of a Springsteen fan. I acknowledge that he is great, but just not my cup of tea. The Stones, on the other hand I’ve been a fan of most of my life, so it’s hard to explain exactly why “Exile On Main Street” never found it’s way to my turntable or hard drive. I was of course, familiar with the three radio hits on the record but not the entire effort.
So, I really felt like I had to rectify this. Spinning “Exile” for the first time a couple of months ago I was compelled to write a post asking really what all the fuss was about. It seemed alright, but it kind of went out of it’s way to sound like some sort of authentic delta blues record. Too forced. My initial knee – jerk opinion was that an album like “Aftermath” had a much higher level of that bluesy authenticity while at the same time not trying half as hard to deliver the goods as “Exile” does.
So I went back to try to find some of the original reviews and I was quite surprised to read that the notices were somewhat mixed. Playboy magazine yearned for “The Stones of Yesteryear”. Circus magazine said “From the sound of things, the Stones weren't exiled on Main Street...they were deported.”
Robert Christgau gave the record an A+. However, even in doing so he acknowledged that it’s not the type of record that’s going to come right out and grab you from the git-go. He wrote, “More than anything else this fagged-out masterpiece is difficult -- how else to describe music that takes weeks to understand? Weary and complicated, barely afloat in its own drudgery, it rocks with extra power and concentration as a result. More indecipherable than ever, submerging Mick's voice under layers of studio murk, it piles all the old themes -- sex as power, sex as love, sex as pleasure, distance, craziness, release -- on top of an obsession with time more than appropriate in over-thirties committed to what was once considered youth music.”
These words seemed to vindicate my initial feelings. I almost felt like a rock critic. Thing is though, Christgau got the point about the record way before I did. He realized before he sat down at his typewriter that the sloppiness and murkiness that permeates “Exile” is precisely the point. He must have listened to the record dozens more times than the guys from Playboy and Circus did, because he did a better job at reviewing it. As I listen to “Exile” while typing this and glancing at his words, it may be the most spot on review ever written.
So, I’m still listening to “Exile On Main Street” this summer, and it’s charms continue to slowly reveal themselves to me with each subsequent spin. It still does not make complete sense yet, but good albums are supposed to challenge you a little bit, aren’t they? This one challenged me a lot, so it might actually be better than just good.
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