Normally I link to The Private Intellectual on matters concerning politics or the Lutheran church, but he’s also the biggest Stones fan I know, and I was wondering what he thought of the Exile re-release.
When I picked it up, I was a dozen years younger than Mick Taylor was when they recorded it. I knew about as much about sex and drugs as I did about the weather patterns on Saturn. But somehow this work from the oversexed hands of massive drug abusers spoke precisely to my shy, awkward suburban boyhood. If the man exhausted and drowning in vice and the boy who has yet to dip his toe in it can sing a classic rock lyric in tolerable unison, it has to be “I only get my rocks off while I’m dreeeaaaming.”