os calhaus rolantes num clássico de eddie taylor, aqui com mais adrenalina

(e miss stewart a guiar um mustang azul, como não podia deixar de ser...)

um dos grandes azuis de willie dixon fecha o novíssimo disco dos rolling stones. 
para dinossauros que começaram por ser uma blues band de teenagers, há que admitir que ainda não esqueceram nada.

os rolling stones começaram por gravar covers dos seus heróis americanos, gente do rhythm&blues e do rock'n'roll. 
é o caso deste azul, escrito nos anos quarenta por jay mcshann, aqui recriado com uma profundidade pouco comum 
para uns novatos no seu ano de estreia.

Baby here I stand before you

With my heart in my hand

I put it to you mama

Hoping that you'll understand

Oh, baby, mama, please don't dog me 'round

Yeah I would rather love you, baby

Than anyone else I know in town

This is my confession, mama

And it's sung by all your song

It proves that I'm in heaven, mama

When you hold me in your arms

Well, baby, can I have you for myself

Yeah, if I can't have you, baby

I don't want nobody else

Well, baby, don't you want a man like me

Well, baby, don't you want a man like me

Yeah, think about your future, baby
Forget about what you used to be

há dias "postei" uma fotografia de uma mesa posta (passe o pleonasmo...), à espera de amigos. e lembrei-me que se tivesse que escolher uma banda sonora para o momento, ela recairia sempre nesta balada clássica dos stones. o clip retrata um grupo de amigos que são músicos e vão tocar num bar, mas não faz justiça ao que parece sempre ausente: 
o saxofonista. e que na gravação em estúdio era nem mais nem menos que o grande sonny rollins, um dos gigantes
do jazz. o solo original que improvisou ficou como um daqueles raros momentos mais-que-perfeitos.



Watching girls go passing by

It ain't the latest thing

I'm just standing in a doorway

I'm just trying to make some sense

Out of these girls go passing by

The tales they tell of men

I'm not waiting on a lady

I'm just waiting on a friend

A smile relieves a heart that grieves

Remember what I said

I'm not waiting on a lady

I'm just waiting on a friend

I'm just waiting on a friend

Don't need a whore

I don't need no booze

Don't need a virgin priest

But I need someone I can cry to

I need someone to protect

Making love and breaking hearts

It is a game for youth

But I'm not waiting on a lady

I'm just waiting on a friend

naquela improvável e inesperada reunião de amigos trintões não se cumpria apenas o elogio fúnebre do antigo colega alex: tornara-se nítido que os ideais da juventude estavam mortos e enterrados há muito tempo. 
os stones confirmavam-no em lamento na banda sonora – nem sempre se pode ter tudo o que se quer…
mas a mestria de kasdan fez deste o funeral mais bem filmado de todos os tempos.

d e s c u b r a
a s
s e t e
d i f e r e n ç a s :




...numa das grandes baladas dos stones, entre uma versão mais crua que a gravação original 
e a belíssima cover de solveig slettahjell…


a)


b)
 

Childhood living is easy to do


The things you wanted I bought them for you


Graceless lady you know who I am


You know I cant let you slide through my hands



Wild horses couldnt drag me away


Wild, wild horses, couldnt drag me away



I watched you suffer a dull aching pain


Now you decided to show me the same


No sweeping exits or offstage lines


Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind



Wild horses couldnt drag me away


Wild, wild horses, couldnt drag me away



I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie


I have my freedom but I dont have much time


Faith has been broken, tears must be cried


Let’s do some living after we die



Wild horses couldnt drag me away


Wild, wild horses, well ride them some day

este é um boogie escrito por don raye e gravado pela primeira vez em 1940. das inúmeras versões mais próximas do original prefiro a de amos milburn, que tem aquele piano irresistível. das covers mais recentes, a melhor ainda é a dos rolling stones, na altura uns miúdos em início de carreira.

d e s c u b r a
a s
s e t e
d i f e r e n ç a s :

a) amos milburn



b) the rolling stones

Now if you wanna hear some boogie like I'm gonna play 


It's just an old piano and a knockout bass 


The drummer's man's a cat they call Charlie McCoy 


You know, remember that rubber-legged boy? 


Mama cookin' chicken fried and bacon grease 


Come on along boys it's just down the road apiece 



Well there's a place you really get your kicks 


It's open every night about twelve to six 


Now if you wanna hear some boogie you can get your fill 


And shove and sting like an old steam drill 


Come on along you can lose your lead 

Down the road, down the road, down the road apiece

d e s c u b r a
a s
s e t e
d i f e r e n ç a s :





o sr. richards escreveu o riff de guitarra mais famoso da história do rock num quarto de hotel. o sr. jagger achou que aquilo nem dava um single, mas o sr. jones e o sr. oldham (manager e produtor da banda) convenceram-no e o resto é o que se sabe. 
uma dúzia de anos mais tarde, uns rapazes de akron, ohio, crentes na regressão da espécie (a “de-evolution”), recriaram a canção e a cover tornou-se numa das mais famosas de sempre. aprendi-o em estatística: nem sempre uma regressão é linear (e felizmente).




a) na idade da pedra (rolante)





b) na pós-desevolução

I can't get no satisfaction
 I can't get no satisfaction
 'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try I can't get no, I can't get no
 When I'm drivin' in my car 
And that man comes on the radio And he's tellin' me more and more
 About some useless information 
Supposed to fire my imagination 
I can't get no, oh no no no
 Hey hey hey, that's what I say 
I can't get no satisfaction
 I can't get no satisfaction
 'Cause I try and I try and I try and I try
 I can't get no, I can't get no 
When I'm watchin' my TV
 And that man comes on to tell me
 How white my shirts can be
 But he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke
 The same cigarrettes as me I can't get no, oh no no no 
Hey hey hey, that's what I say 
I can't get no satisfaction 
I can't get no girl reaction
 Cause I try and I try and I try and I try
 I can't get no, I can't get no When I'm ridin' round the world
 And I'm doin' this and I'm signing that
 And I'm tryin' to make some girl
 Who tells me baby better come back later next week
 Cause you see I'm on losing streak
 I can't get no, oh no no no
 Hey hey hey, that's what I say 
I can't get no, I can't get no 
I can't get no satisfaction
 No satisfaction, no satisfaction, no satisfaction

O único filho de Bertrand Richards e Doris Richards (née Dupree) nasceu em Dartford, durante a II Guerra Mundial, 
no dia 18 de Dezembro de 1943. E, facto comprovado, desde esse primeiro dia tem vindo a perder o toque…
Muitos parabéns pelas setenta translações solares, Keith. E olha, para eterno cadáver adiado, até que…




Ain't it funny how things happen
Just as we think we've got it all straight
Everything seems to be moving forward
But instead we just sit around and wait

Seems things are in a lockdown
Nervous looks all around
Everyone is speaking in whispers
No one wants to make a sound

I'm losing my touch, yeah
Losing my touch
Losing my touch baby, way too much
Baby, get me out of here
It should be clear

Keep an eye on on your front door, baby
I'll be slipping in round the back
I just need a little, a little cab fare
And then I'll let you hit the sack

'Cause I'm losing my touch
Losing my touch
Yes I'm losing my touch way too much
Baby, get me out of here
It should be clear, yes

I ain't going to keep it long, baby
But just long, long enough
I've got to pick up my passports
And I've got to get my stuff

'Cause I'm losing my touch
Just losing my touch, baby, baby, baby
I'm losing my touch way, way too much
Baby, get me out of here
Well it must be clear

Losing my touch
Yes I'm losing my touch
Yes I'm losing my touch way too much
Baby get me out of here

outro dos mistérios das pedras rolantes é o seguinte:
como é que este azul mais-que-perfeito foi lançado
apenas como o lado b do single "mixed emotions"?



You're looking good baby
I love to see my baby smile
You're looking good baby
I love to see my baby smile
You say you love me now but
You've got another man on the side

You're always hungry
You always want to drink
I love you so much baby
But I begin to think
Come here baby
I can see the glint in your eye
You say you love me now but
You've got a fancyman on the side

I love to dance with my baby
I love to while away the time
I love to dance with my baby
I love to while away the time
You've got some new steps now
You've got a fancyman on the side

You're looking good baby
I love to see my honey smile
You're looking good baby
I love to see my baby smile
You say you love me now but
You've got a fancyman on the side

d e s c u b r a
a s
s e t e
d i f e r e n ç a s :

... na difícil obtenção de satisfação:

A) no pré-darwinismo

B) na pós-evolução

d e s c u b r a
a s
s e t e
d i f e r e n ç a s :

...de uma banda em estado de graça,

A) em palco, com som gravado ao vivo 
(que não se ouve devido à histeria dos fãs):

B) em palco, com som da gravação de estúdio 
(que se ouve devido à memória dos fãs):

"oh no! are pink suits trendy again?!..."

d e s c u b r a
a s
s e t e
d i f e r e n ç a s :






vamos nesta,



ou neste?






(dedicado a todos os radio-ouvintes que nos sintonizam ao volante e ainda não se decidiram entre a limousine negra e o cadillac novinho em folha)

nunca liguei muito aos stones, e esta – que é a minha canção preferida deles – marca aquela época do final dos anos sessenta em que atingiram o auge criativo: a partir daqui, apesar de um ou outro bom disco, começaram na realidade a repetir-se e a perpetuar a sua imagem… é… nem sempre se pode ter o que se quer…

também acho curioso que tenha sido esta canção, que para mim marca a morte das verdadeiras pedras rolantes, a escolhida para acompanhar os amigos no cortejo fúnebre de alex…

I saw her today at a reception

A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she would meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man

No, you can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need

I saw her today at the reception
A glass of wine in her hand
I knew she was gonna meet her connection
At her feet was her footloose man

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need

And I went down to the demonstration
To get my fair share of abuse
Singing, "We're gonna vent our frustration
If we don't we're gonna blow a 50-amp fuse"
Sing it to me now...

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes well you just might find
You get what you need

I went down to the Chelsea drugstore
To get your prescription filled
I was standing in line with Mr. Jimmy
And man, did he look pretty ill
We decided that we would have a soda
My favorite flavor, cherry red
I sung my song to Mr. Jimmy
Yeah, and he said one word to me, and that was "dead"
I said to him

You can't always get what you want, no!
You can't always get what you want (tell ya baby)
You can't always get what you want (no)
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You get what you need, Oh yes! Woo!
You get what you need--yeah, oh baby!

I saw her today at the reception
In her glass was a bleeding man
She was practiced at the art of deception
Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands

You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need

You can't always get what you want (no, no baby)
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need, ah yes...