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BANDS THAT COMERCIALIZED THEIR SOUND (Part I)
This is another editorial piece I’ve been thinking about for a long time: bands and solo artists who, in one way or another, altered their sound to reach a wider audience and increase sales. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that; the issue arises when you blatantly sacrifice musical quality just to rake in some cash (ahem, "selling out", ahem).
But let’s take this step by step. Every band goes through some form of evolution; it’s nearly impossible to sustain a long career while maintaining the exact same sound from start to finish, unless, of course, you’re AC/DC or Creedence. The Beatles, for instance, shifted their sound with every record, subtly at first, then by leaps and bounds. You couldn’t call that "selling out"; it was experimentation and artistic expansion.
So, at what point can we say a band has "sold out", that is, betrayed their original sound and their fanbase in pursuit of a larger audience and higher sales?
Genesis
This case is particularly interesting because the transformation was both massive and gradual.
The group evolved from being a benchmark for pure progressive rock, characterized by long-form compositions, complex structures, fantastical lyrics, and highly theatrical, dramatic live performances, into a band defined by shorter songs, synthesizers, and pop-oriented structures.
This shift was clearly triggered by the departure of Peter Gabriel, followed later by that of Steve Hackett. After auditioning countless vocalists to fill Gabriel’s shoes, the band realized the solution was right under their noses: Phil Collins, who could channel Gabriel’s vocal style even better than Gabriel himself. However, with Peter’s departure, the band also lost those complex, daring, and sprawling lyrics that had served as the foundation for their more intricate musical arrangements. Even so, the transition didn’t happen overnight; they still managed to release some strong albums with Phil Collins at the helm. Yet, following Hackett’s exit, the shift toward a more commercial sound became increasingly apparent. By the 1980s, Genesis was far from being a progressive band, embracing sounds closer to synth-pop and featuring simplistic lyrics. While they did reach a wider audience, finally making it onto the charts and MTV, this shift was not merely a commercial decision; it reflected an actual transformation within the lineup. The 1980s era represents a significant loss of their progressive identity, as well as a sign that they were more comfortable earning larger sums of money for simpler songs.
Despite the circumstances, Genesis remains one of the clearest examples of a band that "sold out."
Progressive-era Genesis: Foxtrot (1972), Selling England by the Pound (1973), and The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway (1974).
Transitional period: A Trick of the Tail (1976) and Wind & Wuthering (1976).
Commercial-era Genesis: Duke (1980), Genesis (1983), and Invisible Touch (1986).
Peter Gabriel, for his part, pioneered a genre that was neither strictly progressive, pop, nor rock, but rather a blend of all three, that was exceptionally innovative, experimental, and daring. I believe he and Kate Bush were the only artists in this particular genre.
Fleetwood Mac
Fleetwood Mac began as a British blues band, direct heirs to the tradition of John Mayall & the Bluesbreakers. Peter Green served as the primary creative force, and their sound was defined by guitar work, improvisation, and raw, powerful performances. This early lineup was rooted in traditional blues but gradually branched out into psychedelic rock. During this phase, they produced tracks like "Black Magic Woman," "Albatross," and "Oh Well", songs that demonstrated the band’s ability to transcend conventional blues. While they weren't a massive commercial success, they were highly acclaimed by critics and fellow musicians alike.
Peter Green’s departure in 1970 marked a major turning point; the band had lost its principal creative figure. Yet, refusing to fade away, they entered a period of searching for a new identity. Fleetwood Mac began incorporating new voices and songwriters, most notably Christine McVie, who had joined as a keyboardist and gradually took on an increasingly significant role. The group transitioned away from the blues toward a more melodic style of rock, infused with elements of folk, pop, funk, and the "California sound." During this period, they released Future Games (1971), which featured a more atmospheric and melodic sound; Bare Trees (1972) one of their best transitional works, with more accessible compositions; and Mystery to Me (1973), an album that marked a complete departure from their original blues roots.
The arrival of Lindsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks transformed the band entirely. Buckingham brought a far more sophisticated guitar style, meticulous production, and an American pop-rock sensibility. Nicks introduced a completely different vocal and songwriting persona. Meanwhile, Christine McVie emerged as one of the group’s primary songwriters.
Their 1975 self-titled album bore no resemblance to the Peter Green-era Fleetwood Mac. It reached number one in the United States. This was followed by Rumours, Tusk, Mirage, and many others, turning the group into one of the best-selling acts on the planet.
Did Fleetwood Mac "sell out"? No. By 1975, John McVie was the only remaining member from the original lineup. With the addition of Buckingham and Nicks, it was effectively a completely different band—one that simply held onto the original name. You can’t really say they "sold out," because, in a literal sense, it was a different group, led by a bassist who retained the rights to the name. Personally, while I find Stevie’s voice beautiful, I’m not a fan of that superstar-era lineup. To me, they come across more as a pop band than a rock band, and they are, in my view, extremely overrated. And even if I get burned at the stake for saying it, I vastly prefer their first three blues albums.
Metallica
Metallica is another very peculiar case. I remain annoyed with them for their antics regarding Napster, which led to the takedown of my first blog, and, more recently, for their lack of political engagement. Many might argue that the shift in their sound was due to the death of Cliff Burton, yet ...And Justice for All still managed to retain the band’s original thrash spirit, even though Burton was, for all intents and purposes, irreplaceable.
The first major shift arrived with their self-titled record, better known as the Black Album (1991). The band moved away from their 1980s sound, opting for shorter, slower, and simpler songs. This certainly reached a much wider audience and helped propel metal into the mainstream. But despite the more "accessible" sound, the songs themselves remained of exceptional quality, making it a landmark album of the 1990’s, and for metal as a whole. While their original fanbase felt betrayed, I personally believe it was a change for the better.
The real problem arose with what followed. Load and Reload, essentially twin albums, saw the band drift away from metal toward something more… well, "alternative." It felt as though they were forcing themselves to jump on the grunge bandwagon, crafting songs specifically for radio and MTV. Wasn't that exactly the kind of thing they had railed against in the 80’s? By the time St. Anger was released, even their staunchest defenders seemed to give up. Later, with Robert Trujillo on bass, they managed to recapture some of the power and complexity of their original thrash sound. Nevertheless, the band’s image remained defined by a trajectory that began with a full-on fight against the mainstream, only for them to eventually become part of it, going so far as to avoid taking any political stance whatsoever.
Initial phase: Kill 'Em All (1983), Ride the Lightning (1984), and Master of Puppets (1986). Aggressive thrash metal, speed, complex riffs, and a distinctly underground attitude.
The first shift: The Black Album (1991). Cleaner production, shorter songs, less complex riffs, and more accessible structures.
The definitive break for many: Load (1996) and Reload (1997). Influences from blues, Southern rock, and alternative hard rock, along with a completely different image.
U2
U2 is one of the clearest examples of a band that transitioned from an alternative, post-punk identity to becoming one of the most commercially successful and mainstream rock acts. Is that a bad thing? No. Consider Depeche Mode, a band that emerged around the same time and followed a similar trajectory of commercial growth. However, Depeche Mode never altered their sound simply to boost sales; rather, they adapted and modernized alongside evolving technology. U2 began as a post-punk band, angry at the system, only to eventually join the very establishment they once criticized, a point perhaps best exemplified when their album Songs of Innocence was pre-loaded onto the iPhone 6 in 2014.
Their transformation was gradual, and for much of that process, the band managed to expand their audience without entirely abandoning their core identity. Whether or not you like the band, it is undeniable that U2 in the 1980s felt fresh, featuring strong riffs, innovative pedal effects, powerful and sincere lyrics, and an anti-establishment fervor, as captured on the cover of War. The 1980s also saw them evolve, moving toward a more spiritual tone as their ascent continued.
The Joshua Tree marked the moment the band successfully blended their post-punk roots with a monumental production style, American influences, and songs of profound emotional impact. While this did represent a shift in their sound, and for many, it stands as the best album of the 1980s (though not for me), it was, in all honesty, a genuine artistic evolution. U2 did not discard their identity; instead, they found a way for that original identity to function on a much larger scale.
With Achtung Baby, the band incorporated influences from industrial, electronic, dance, and alternative rock music. The Edge’s guitar work took on a far more distorted and experimental quality. Much like Metallica, it seems they sought to ride the wave of the 1990’s while remaining a band with deep roots in the sound of the 1980’s. And unlike many bands that perished in the attempt, it worked for them. Achtung Baby is arguably the most striking example of a band radically shifting its sound without losing its identity, a direction they would continue to explore on Zooropa. So far, so good; the parallel I mentioned earlier with Depeche holds up quite well.
The trouble begins with Pop. Starting with the name itself… I should clarify that I hold a certain sentimental attachment to this record, as it was my wife’s favorite U2 album, though I suspect that’s only because it was the only one she owned. The fact is, with Pop, the band dove headfirst into electronic music, dance, and the alternative sounds of the nineties; “Discotheque” is the clearest example of a band desperate to be played in dance clubs. It didn’t feel like a natural evolution, but rather something forced, though there are some good tracks, such as “Staring At The Sun” and “The Playboy Mansion.”
In the new century, the situation worsened. With All That You Can’t Leave Behind and How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, U2 began to sound like bands from the 60’s and 70’s trying to fit into the 80s: stagnant, awkward, and characterized by prefabricated, out-of-place sounds. They abandoned electronic experimentation and, in a sense, attempted to return to their roots, offering simpler, more melodic, and catchy songs that leaned more toward the reactionary than the political. By this point, however, U2 was a million light-years removed from those young, punk-rooted Irishmen. Their records no longer exuded authentic grit; instead, they felt like the tiresome sermonizing of someone out of step with the times. This transformation was no longer a natural evolution; it appeared to be a desperate pursuit of relevance, a need to remain present.
With No Line on the Horizon (2009), U2 revisited electronic and atmospheric influences, this time, in my view, more successfully and with a greater sense of sincerity. Later, Songs of Innocence (2014) and Songs of Experience (2017) showcased a sound aiming for modernity, incorporating pop and electronic production. But, in all honesty, by this stage, few people attend their tours hoping to hear songs from this later era.
The Original Phase: Boy (1980), October (1981), and War (1983) - post-punk and alternative rock, the band’s foundational identity.
Atmospheric and Epic Rock: The Unforgettable Fire (1984), The Joshua Tree (1987), and Rattle and Hum (1988) — marking a significant artistic evolution.
Alternative Rock, Electronic, and Industrial: Achtung Baby (1991) and Zooropa (1993) — representing a genuine reinvention.
The Turning Point: Pop (1997) — dance, electronic, and experimental pop. Where everything went to hell.
2000 to the present: every album since then. This is the era where the band shifted toward stadium rock and pop-rock, effectively kicking aside the young Dubliners they once were and becoming part of the very mainstream they had previously fought against.
Did U2 sell out? In my humble opinion, yes. Starting with the album Pop, the Irish band openly sought to reach a wider audience, not in an organic way, but in a forced one. And in this case, there are no excuses involving lineup changes or anything of the sort. Did it work for them? Yes. No one can fault them for that. U2 became a money-making machine in terms of record sales and tours; yet, while they certainly reached a more pop-oriented audience, the rock community still views this as one of the most unforgivable betrayals in rock music.
Muse
Muse is perhaps the most complex case, as their evolution didn’t necessarily involve abandoning their original sound, but rather exaggerating and transforming it, ultimately morphing into a stadium-rock act heavily infused with electronic and pop elements.
In my view, they tried to follow in the footsteps of Queen… but it didn’t quite work out. Or at least, not as they had hoped, since they completely lost the respect of fans who loved their first four albums.
Muse never entirely lost their identity, but they did radically shift the balance of their musical components. Their debut, Showbiz, leans much closer to the alternative rock of the late nineties, still somewhat rudimentary compared to what they would later achieve, yet already possessing a distinct personality. With Origin of Symmetry, the band reached a peak of maturity, delivering a sound that was heavier, more dramatic, and more experimental. Matthew Bellamy began integrating piano, synthesizers, and guitar into a unified musical structure, it sounded truly out of this world. The compositions grew more complex, featuring shifting rhythms, aggressive riffs, and a far more theatrical vocal delivery.
Absolution brought a subtle shift. While the album retains the intensity of Origin of Symmetry, the songs became more structured and accessible. Here, Muse began to strike a balance between two sides: the dark, experimental alternative rock of their earlier work, and an epic, melodic, arena-ready rock sound.
With Black Holes & Revelations, the transformation became much more apparent. While still a great record from Muse’s early era, it features a more obvious use of electronics and synthesizers, influences from disco and glam rock, more conventional pop-oriented song structures, and a cleaner production style. “Supermassive Black Hole” is the clearest example, it’s a fantastic, catchy, and powerful track, yet one that would have been impossible to imagine on Origin of Symmetry. The problem lies in songs like “Starlight”, which, while very cute, is ultimately just a stadium pop-rock ballad, that would end up bringing them what I call the “Starlight Army.” On the other hand, the album also features “Knights of Cydonia,” a fantastic track that captures Muse’s progressive, theatrical ambition and borders on perfection. The record is still good, but it already showed the band at a crossroads; unfortunately, they chose the more pop-oriented, commercial path.
The Resistance and The 2nd Law came as a slap in the face to those of us who thought Muse might become the next Radiohead. They lean much more heavily into electronic and pop elements, seemingly tailored for the “Starlight Army.” The band took their role as a stadium act perhaps too much to heart; the songs feel crafted specifically for that setting—forced, artificial, at times simplistic, and at other times unnecessarily complex.
With Drones, they attempt to reclaim some of their rock identity, bringing guitars back to the forefront and adopting a conceptual structure. Yet, the production remains far more bombastic than that of Showbiz, and the record feels contrived, lacking the spontaneity of their early work.
On Simulation Theory, the band dives headfirst into an 80s aesthetic, heavy on synthesizers and electronic pop. It’s as if they were saying, “Didn’t like Drones? Well, we’re going back to what we did before”. And as for Will of the People, let’s not even go there; it follows much the same path. While there are still a few salvageable tracks throughout this entire period, nothing comes anywhere near the level of “Hysteria”.
Did Muse “sell out”? My answer is: yes. Muse became progressively more commercial. Perhaps they never entirely abandoned their musical identity, they always leaned toward theatricality, grandiosity, and experimentation, but these elements became increasingly accessible and geared toward massive audiences.
The trouble with cultivating a “Starlight Army” is that it becomes all too tempting to cater to them, but in doing so, you leave your original fanbase feeling betrayed.
Coldplay
Coldplay is one of the rarest cases, because they applied a U2 and a Muse almost overnight. Yes, their sound was more basic and mellow from the beginning, but those of us who started listening to them as a guilty pleasure with “Yellow” soon got excited thinking that they could evolve in a similar way to Muse or even Radiohead.
And the Parachutes, with which they inaugurated the millennium, certainly had a lot of influences from Radiohead, Travis, Train, and other groups on the British scene, with relatively discreet acoustic and electric guitars, their certain doses of melancholy and emotional sensitivity and songs with simple structures, but with enveloping atmospheres that caught you.
A Rush of Blood To The Head from 2002 expands their sound without abandoning their roots, with more prominent guitars, more elaborate themes and a much more powerful production. Songs like “Clocks” and “Politik” showed the band evolving in a good way, and at the same time, sending a message that everyone could identify with. And without leaving aside the simple and emotional ballads that worked well. For me it is their best album. At this point, Coldplay was already commercially successful, but still maintained an identity linked to alternative rock.
With X&Y all that goes to waste. The sound becomes more expansive, atmospheric and aimed at large audiences. There was no transition, they simply devoted themselves completely to pleasing their own “Starlight Army”. Its production moved diametrically away from the simplicity and spontaneity of the first 2 albums and sounded tailor-made to make its way onto Pop stations.
With Viva la Vida or Death and All His Friends, Coldplay presents a combination of rock, pop, electronic and orchestral elements. They stop being primarily a rock-pop band and begin to become an experimental and epic pop-rock band. I don't know if I understand myself. It is the album where Coldplay stops being a rock band that incorporates electronics and begins to be a pop band that incorporates rock elements.
With Mylo Xyloto, Coldplay completely abandoned any lingering traces of alternative rock, transforming instead into an electronic pop act. The result: immediate pop melodies, synthesizers, and a monumental production style. Their subsequent albums have largely followed the same path. In short, Coldplay, a band we once hoped might become a rival to Radiohead, ended up competing with the likes of Ariana Grande.
Did Coldplay "sell out"? My answer is: Yes. Completely and absolutely—and quite deliberately, too. They began as a highly promising alternative rock band, only to end up as just another run-of-the-mill pop act. Do they fill stadiums? Yes. Is their music any good? Ehhh… honestly, no. There are pop acts, Robbie Williams, for instance, whose work is genuinely good, sincere, and authentic; Coldplay, however, is not among them.
Other Examples:
The Clash: From the raw, brutal punk of their debut to the politically charged London Calling, and finally to the blend of reggae, funk, pop, and commercial production found on Combat Rock (1982). Many argue that The Clash "sold out," but I see it as a natural evolution—an incorporation of other genres they had been experimenting with from the very beginning. The reality is that punk was an incendiary genre that burned out too quickly; it simply couldn’t remain in its pure, original form for very long.
Def Leppard: Their early work On Through the Night (1980) and High 'n' Dry (1981), features a sound closer to the NWOBHM (New Wave of British Heavy Metal). By the time of Pyromania (1983), their sound became much more polished and geared toward large stadiums. Their peak commercialization arrived with Hysteria (1987), an album practically designed and recorded to produce radio hits. Did they "sell out"? I’m no expert on NWOBHM or Hair Metal, and Def Leppard is a band that leaves me completely indifferent, but considering their origins and the accounts of their early fans, yes, Def Leppard drastically altered their sound with the goal of making more money.
The Rolling Stones: The shift toward a sound more focused on disco, funk, and pop, seen in Undercover (1983), Dirty Work (1986), and Steel Wheels (1989), stands in contrast to the rawer rock of the seventies. Nope. They didn’t "sell out"; they simply hit a dreadful slump. The proof lies in the fact that these are among the lowest-selling records in the Stones' catalog; it wasn't a commercially motivated pivot, but rather a total lack of creativity, a malaise that affected many "sacred cows" of rock during that decade.
Bon Jovi evolved from a hard rock band with a glam aesthetic into an arena-rock act, crafting songs tailored for massive audiences. New Jersey (1988) still leaned into hard rock, albeit with an increasing amount of makeup and hairspray (though, what a killer track "Livin’ on a Prayer" is!). Fans often accuse them of becoming far more commercial with Keep the Faith (1992), and especially with These Days (1995) and Crush (2000). The verdict? I have no idea; I enjoy a handful of their 80’s songs, but I’ve never been a fan of Glam Metal. But to my taste, they’ve always sounded commercial, so no, they didn’t “sell out.”
Aerosmith: Their shift toward pop-rock and their collaborations in the late eighties, most notably on Permanent Vacation (1987), might be debated. While the collaboration with Run-DMC could be questioned, consider that even someone like Silvio Rodríguez has collaborated with Calle 13 these days. It wasn’t to everyone’s liking, but in hindsight, they were pioneers. As for Pump and Permanent Vacation, I believe they simply adjusted their sound to fit the era, without ever abandoning their hard rock roots. Sure, there are catchier melodies and, eventually, ballads, but if there was ever a moment where they truly “sold out,” it was when they agreed to record “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing.” It wasn’t their own composition, and it was clearly designed from the start to be the hit of the summer—which, in fact, it became.
Green Day: The leap from the "happy punk" of Dookie (1994) to the more polished, theatrical production of American Idiot (2004). Did they "sell out"? No—I maintain that punk, by its very nature, doesn't offer much room for maneuver, so expanding their sound was a natural progression. At that point, a "Punk Opera" was a major risk, not a safe bet for cashing in.
The Offspring: From aggressive, melodic punk to a more accessible sound on Americana (1998) and Conspiracy Of One (2000). Same thing. The Offspring knew how to adapt their sound while retaining their identity, even if they did become more accessible. My only gripe from this era is the blatant, yet hilarious, plagiarism of "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" in their song "Why Don't You Get a Job?"
I was going to continue with bands that sing in Spanish, but this post has already become too long, so we’ll save that for a second part.
What do you think? Are there any other English-language bands you would add?
By Corvan
Oct/30/2026
HACKNEY DIAMONDS (The Rolling Stones, 2023)
Artist: The Rolling Stones (A)
Recording Dates: Feb 2019 – Jan 2023
Release Dates: October 20, 2023. UK
Record Label: Polydor
Producer: The Glimmer Twins, Don Was and Andrew Watt
Rating: 8
Era: Blues, Hard Rock & Roots
Subgenre: The Great Transition
Best Songs: Seet Sounds Of Heaven or Angry
Tracklists:1) Angry; 2) Get Close; 3) Depending On You; 4) Bite My Head Off; 5) Whole New World; 6) Dreamy Skies; 7) Mess It Up; 8) Live By The Sword; 9) Driving Me Too Hard; 10) Tell Me Straight; 11) Sweet Sonds Of Heaven (Feat. Lady Gaga); 12) Rolling Stone Blues.
2023’s Hackney Diamonds arrived after an 18-year gap without a studio album of original material from Their Satanic Majesties, counting from 2005’s A Bigger Bang. In between came Blue & Lonesome(2016), a return to blues roots that served as a reminder of the band's musical origins, though it can hardly be considered part of the group's core catalog. Here, the Stones return to original songwriting, doing so with modern production (perhaps TOO modern), an unlikely guest list, and above all, a level of guts that bands 40 years their junior would envy.
I find it admirable that the Rolling Stones continue to release studio albums after a career spanning more than six decades. Not because Mick, Keith, and Ronnie still have something to prove, nor because we ought to celebrate every release from a legendary band with great fanfare as if it were a historic event, but simply because the fact that they still have the drive to play rock and roll deserves recognition. Especially in an era where the genre has lost its former prominence and become a niche interest. I saw them on the Olé Tour ten years ago, and everyone swore it would be their final tour. Then again, people have been saying that since 1972...
To be honest, I had intended to review Foreign Tongues, an album from 2026. Buuuut, I feel that record is something of a sharper twin brother to Hackney Diamonds, so it’s worth starting with the latter; they complement each other in many ways (and, in a sense, tie into several points I raised regarding Paul’s Boys Of Dungeon Lane). Don’t worry, you won’t have to wait long for the Foreign Tongues review. After 2016’s Blue & Lonesome, which consisted entirely of blues covers, the Stones had been mulling over the idea of a new album featuring original material, but the sessions just weren't clicking. They tried to get serious about it in 2020, but the pandemic got in the way. They attempted to pick up the work again in 2021, yielding the drum tracks Charlie recorded, but once again, nothing concrete materialized. In 2022, Paul McCartney suggested they work with producer Andrew Watt (a bit of payback for the Allen Klein recommendation, perhaps? Haha), who finally got them working in earnest in early 2023. The album’s consistency likely stems from years of accumulated songs, allowing them the luxury of cherry-picking the best ones and taking the time to arrange them without rushing.
Regarding McCartney’s latest record, I remarked that it’s hard to review albums fresh off the press. In this case, some time has passed, yet I’m still not sure how objective I can be. The bottom line is that I like it, and it has grown on me with repeated listens. Just like with Paul, I feel the Stones suffered a dramatic slump after 1981’s Tattoo You, a rut they didn't really escape until Voodoo Lounge (which I think is a fantastic record) and Bridges to Babylon. By the time A Bigger Bang arrived, they sounded more like a caricature of themselves. Here, I think they recapture that energy and spontaneity. Yes, at times it seems they’re trying a bit too hard to sound like "The Stones," and Andrew Watt appears to be pushing them to sound modern simultaneously; yet overall, I don't think they’ve sounded this good since ’94 or ’97.
And as with Paul, it’s hard to tell whether you’re comparing them against their past selves or against the void in today’s rock music. In any case, it’s a breath of fresh air to hear those crackling guitars and that kick-ass attitude we haven't sensed from them in so long. And the surprising thing is, we didn't have to wait another 18 years, until the Glimmer Twins were nearly 100, for them to release another album!
When listened to alongside Foreign Tongues, Hackney Diamonds takes on a new dimension. The two works can almost be seen as twin albums: they share a sonic personality, modern production, and an intent to reclaim various facets of the band's identity. I think Foreign Tongues is slightly superior, but both belong to the same creative era—as if we were listening to different chapters of one extended session. Foreign Tongues offers a sense of continuity in terms of sound, style, and production, but more on that later. On another note, this is the first album without Charlie Watts, who passed away on Tuesday, August 24, 2021, at the age of 80. Charlie had already stepped down from the tour due to health issues, marking the first time he had missed Stones concerts since 1963, and had designated drummer Steve Jordan as his replacement; Jordan was a member of Keith’s solo band, and Charlie trusted him to handle live duties while he recovered. Sadly, however, he never did recover. No official cause of death was released. I remember feeling absolutely devastated when I heard the news. Charlie didn't seek the spotlight, yet he was a vital part of the Stones' sound; countless drummers and bands immediately acknowledged him as one of the greats, the kind of player whose signature style was "less is more." Someone once remarked, though it’s an old saying, that they admired Watts because he was the only drummer in the world capable of keeping Keith Richards in check. The old gods are dying...
Steve Jordan took over the drum kit for the album's sessions, though without becoming an official Stone, much like bassist Darryl Jones, who has held his role since 1994. The band incorporated recordings of Charlie on a couple of tracks as a tribute. Bill Wyman also returned for one of these songs, briefly reuniting the Rolling Stones' 1969 quartet lineup, the one that existed just before Mick Taylor joined the band. But the album also features other stellar guests: Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Lady Gaga, and Paul McCartney himself!
The result is a solid rock album, featuring several standout moments alongside a few less memorable tracks. However, putting things into perspective, we are talking about a group that released some of the most important albums in rock history during the 60’s and 70’s, and which, even in the 90’s, managed to deliver very solid work that kept pace with the times. At that stage of their career, the Stones could still combine craftsmanship, personality, and a certain ambition to explore new musical paths. Hackney Diamonds doesn't quite reach that level, but neither is it a product that relies solely on the group's reputation. It is a record that perhaps shines all the brighter because of “when” it was released. It isn't the "gem" many reviews claim it to be, but it certainly isn't bad.
In fact, the best thing about the album is that it sounds like a rock band that still wants to play rock. There are riffs, hard-hitting drums, crackling guitars trading licks, and a Mick Jagger who seems to draw energy from nowhere (we know where Keith gets his- wink, wink). They don't sound like a tired band merely fulfilling an obligation to release an album, the way they did with Dirty Works or Steel Wheels. We aren't looking at a new Sticky Fingers here, nor a work that will alter the Stones' status in the slightest, but it is a record that reminds us why the Stones have survived so long bearing the title "The Greatest Rock and Roll Band in the World", without anyone ever challenging that claim.
The album opens with one of its best tracks. “Angry” is a hard-hitting, direct song built around a riff with plenty of character (albeit one reminiscent of “Start Me Up”), a solid rhythm section, and a chorus designed to stick in your head like gum, especially that “Don’t Get Angry With MEEE!” hook we’ve all used on our significant others at some point. The Stones sound loose and right at home, delivering that signature blend of swagger, rhythm, and melody they’ve mastered over the ages, amen. Jagger’s performance has just the right amount of cheekiness to feel fresh, carrying his trademark touch of venom. On the other hand, Andrew Watt’s production gives it a modern sound, though I’m not entirely sold on that aspect. The guitars have a gritty edge, and Ronnie and Keith display great chemistry in their interplay, capped off by a strong solo around the two-minute mark that builds alongside the backing vocals toward a spectacular finish. The track served as the lead single and succeeded in generating plenty of anticipation. While it may not rank among their all-time classics, it’s a high-energy way to kick off the album. The music video, by the way, is a gem for a variety of reasons.
“Get Close” is a more melodic track, a sort of mid-tempo ballad featuring a vocal performance that retains Mick’s provocative spirit. Elton John appears on piano here, adding movement and a touch of boogie-woogie that fits the song well, though his contribution feels a bit too understated, almost wasted. The collaboration came about because Watt was also producing an album for Elton; one thing led to another, and there you have it. It’s a pleasant, melodic song that doesn't quite fully explode, and it features a sax solo that feels like a nod to Bobby Keys, the Stones’ longtime saxophonist who passed away in 2014.
After that initial burst of energy comes “Depending on You”. This is a proper ballad song about heartbreak with a simple structure, and perhaps even a touch saccharine. Jagger manages to reveal a vulnerability that contrasts with his usual rock-star swagger. Pianos, slide guitar, and organs enter the mix, building into a slow crescendo that culminates in string arrangements and backing vocals. The chorus is lovely. It serves as a reminder that the Stones were never just a band defined by riffs and attitude; they have always known how to incorporate ballads, country, soul, and other styles. That said, the song doesn't quite reach the level of their best slow-tempo compositions. It feels a bit like an attempt to recreate "You Can’t Always Get What You Want". It is pleasant and well-crafted, though the melody lacks the punch needed to rank among the album's highlights.
Next up, we get the Stones at their most brash and irreverent. "Bite My Head Off" is a punk-rock blast with a deliberately insolent attitude and an instrumental backing seemingly designed to be played at full volume. I’m not usually a fan of their punk tracks, but the riff here is simple and strong, the performance is aggressive, and the song’s greatest asset is the sense of urgency that drives the entire piece. Plus, Paul McCartney is on bass, adding a layer of historic appeal—a Beatle playing with the Stones. I remember when Charlie died, there were memes joking that the Stones were missing a drummer and a bassist, while the Beatles were left with *only* a drummer and a bassist. Well, a collaboration involving Ringo might have been asking too much. The important thing is having McCartney on bass; while he fits seamlessly into the band's sound, he does so discreetly, without trying to hog the spotlight (the riff doesn't really call for it). However, he does launch into a distorted mini-bass solo at the 2:15 mark, vaguely reminiscent of the bass sound on "Think For Yourself", followed immediately by Keith’s incisive solo. Legend has it that as soon as the take was finished, Paul exclaimed, “I just played fucking bass with the Stones, and I'm a fucking Beatle.” Ultimately, the song works precisely because it doesn't worry too much about sophistication. It’s a fun, powerful track with an attitude many young bands would envy. If “Angry” opens the door, this track confirms the album has plenty of fuel in the tank, and it works on its own merits, not just because of Macca’s involvement.
“Whole Wide World” keeps the momentum going with sharp guitars and a rhythm reminiscent of the Stones’ faster-paced side. It features a solid riff that sounds modern, thanks, I think, to a touch of phaser. The structure is straightforward, with a catchy chorus designed to keep things moving. The issue is that it feels like “Streets of Love” on steroids. I like the song, it has a killer solo, plenty of melody, and a great breakdown at the 2:35 mark, but it does strongly recall that 2005 ballad, and it starts to become apparent that the album has a relatively limited palette. Were it not for that, I’d mark it as a standout track, though it remains one of the album's highlights.
“Dreamy Skies” is one of the album’s most tranquil moments. The song leans toward country and the American rural acoustic tradition, creating a relaxed, dreamy atmosphere thanks to sweet slide guitar work. Mick also incorporates the harmonica, reinforcing that rustic vibe. The change of pace makes sense, as the chorus itself suggests. While the atmosphere is pleasant, the melody lacks the hook and punch needed to make the track a truly memorable interlude. Aside from the sweet guitar interplay, the song doesn't quite justify its nearly five-minute runtime, and it feels like something we’ve already heard on Voodoo Lounge. The change of pace is welcome, but the result feels lackluster, ultimately becoming a tedious and overly long track.
Next up is “Mess It Up”, which picks up the tempo with a more danceable rhythm section and a funk-infused feel. Watt’s influence is evident in the off-the-cuff opening, sounding like a rehearsal where the producer might have shouted “we’re rolling” to kick them into the groove. It’s a danceable track, though it perhaps leans too heavily on reminders of “Miss You” with that octave-based disco bassline. The song also holds sentimental value, as it features drums recorded by Charlie Watts during sessions prior to his death in 2021. It’s not a bad song, and it doesn't sound like the Stones merely trying to mimic their 1978 disco-era selves; rather, it sounds like they are trying a bit too hard to craft a dance track for a 2023 audience. I imagine they faced similar criticism back in ’78, and “Miss You” went on to become an essential concert classic. But while this track isn't bad, I don't think it will age quite as well.
“Live By The Sword” is another track that bridges the present and the past. Charlie Watts’s drumming makes a return, and this time Bill Wyman, the band’s original bassist, participates in a Stones recording for the first time in over 30 years. Elton John once again contributes piano work that fits perfectly with the song’s rock spirit; he shines a bit more here, though it would have been great if the guitar solo at the 1:40 mark had played more like a dialogue with the piano. Musically, the track is essentially classic rock and roll, featuring piano, a driving rhythm, and a straightforward vocal performance. It isn't a masterpiece, but it stands out as a highlight of the album's second half; nostalgia works in its favor, too, given the presence of the band's original rhythm section, something that has been sorely missed.
“Driving Me Too Hard” is another mid-tempo track that leans on melody and a structure that is... how should I put it? Ah, yes: generic. It possesses that classic rock character the Stones have perfected over decades, a laid-back vibe, a catchy chorus, and standout guitars. The thing is, it’s hard not to notice a certain recycling of ideas, and the song isn't exactly memorable; it shares the same mood as the filler tracks found on albums from *Babylon* onwards. In any case, it’s a competent and enjoyable little tune.
Keith Richards takes the mic on “Tell Me Straight”, an introspective ballad that contrasts with the other rock tracks. His gravelly, weary voice is fitting for a song that seems to look toward the future with a mix of uncertainty and resignation. The thing is, well, I adore Keith, and "Happy" is one of the highlights of the Stones' entire catalog, but generally speaking, with a few exceptions (like "Thru and Thru"), the songs he sings all feel like slow ballads of resignation. And they aren't very memorable. It feels like the kind of track the Beatles used to give Ringo to sing: just harmless filler. In my opinion, it’s one of the album's weakest points. The song has an interesting atmosphere, but it fails to develop a melody or progression that allows it to build. Richards' voice has character, though that isn't enough to make it a memorable composition.
And then comes the album's big moment. “Sweet Sounds of Heaven” is an expansive, seven-minute-and-twenty-two-second track rooted in soul and gospel. The Stones step away from the standard rock format for a moment, taking their time to build something with greater emotional depth—a slow crescendo that begins with a lovely musical dialogue between guitar and piano, the latter played by Stevie Wonder. Mick opens with characteristic flair, delivering a slow, enveloping, and hypnotic melody as the instrumentation gradually builds. Lady Gaga enters around the two-minute mark, almost shyly at first, trading lines with Mr. Jagger. Her responses grow increasingly powerful until, at the 2:30 mark, they are locked in an epic vocal duel that keeps intensifying. Lady Gaga does far more than make a merely decorative appearance; she brings an intensity that mounts as the song progresses. Wonder, meanwhile, provides a harmonic foundation that helps craft a spiritual atmosphere, switching from piano to organ to accentuate the gospel feel. At 4:22, there is an instrumental bridge featuring horns and guitar arrangements. At 5:10, it sounds as though the song is ending, one can even hear Gaga laughing with satisfaction, but it seems they let the tape roll and decided to keep jamming. Wonder drops in electric piano notes, and Mick and Lady Gaga resume their duel, until she ultimately steals the show during the majestic coda. One might assume the collaboration with Gaga was intended to attract a different audience, yet the song feels organic and majestic rather than manufactured. Yes, it evokes Merry Clayton’s performance on “Gimme Shelter,” but in this instance, the comparison is entirely positive. Jagger proves his voice can still sustain a passionate performance, while the band gives the song room to grow without rushing it. This is the moment where the album reaches its greatest musical and emotional scope, and it also demonstrates that the Stones can still surprise us when they allow themselves to step outside their more predictable comfort zone.
The album closes with “Rolling Stone Blues”, a cover of the Muddy Waters track that takes the group straight back to its roots. Following the collaborations and more elaborate production found on other tracks, this song offers a rather stark conclusion, putting the blues front and center with a performance that requires no fancy arrangements. In fact, it stays quite faithful to Muddy’s original version, featuring a somewhat swampy production style, Keith playing guitar parts that are very similar to the original, and Mick adopting that black vocal affectation, particularly on the word “well.” Is it a nod to the origin of their name, or to Brian Jones, who chose it after spotting the song title on a record just before an interview? I find the choice of this track to close the album deeply symbolic: ending with a cover like this brings things full circle. After more than sixty years, the band still finds a reason to return to the musical language that originally inspired them. It may not be a particularly earth-shattering finale, but it is a coherent one. Rather than trying to compete with the grandeur of “Sweet Sounds of Heaven,” the track serves as a simple, direct farewell. Perhaps even they didn't know at the time whether this would mark the end of their recorded output, which would have been highly symbolic.
Anyway, when this record came out three years ago, there was a running joke that the best thing about it was Sydney Sweeney. Ha! – gold star for anyone who got that reference. But seriously, Hackney Diamonds is a good Rolling Stones album. It isn’t a late-career masterpiece, nor a record that belongs on the same pedestal as the albums produced by Jimmy Miller. Nor does it seem to match the consistency of their best 90’s moments, a time when they could still blend experience with a greater sense of exploration and risk (a mid-song rap that actually works?). Still, it would be unfair to say it’s good simply out of nostalgia. Admittedly, Watt’s production doesn’t quite win me over, though I can’t put my finger on exactly why. But "Angry" and "Bite My Head Off" prove the band can still sound fierce and fun, while "Sweet Sounds of Heaven" delivers one of their most inspired moments of the century. The weaker tracks keep the album from maintaining that high standard from start to finish, but overall, the record has enough personality to justify a listen. And to be enjoyed.
It’s also important to consider the context. We’re living in an era where rock is no longer the dominant genre it was for decades. Hearing the Stones play these songs is a breath of fresh air these days. Not because everything they do demands celebration, but because they are still capable of crafting songs that feel alive, fueled by guitars, grit, attitude, and an identity that doesn’t rely on damn algorithms.
By Corvan
Oct/13/2026
