The Cavern
Rock & Words
GET YER YA YA's OUT (The Rolling Stones, 1970)
Artist: The Rolling Stones (A)
Recording Date: 26-28 Nov, 1969
Release Date: September 4th, 1970. UK
Record Label: Decca / London / ABKCO
Producer: Rolling Stones & Glynn Jones
Rating: 10 (ICONIC ALBUM, MUST HAVE)
Era: Hard Rock (1968-???)
Subgenre: Live Album
Best Song: Uff! Rambler?
Tracklist: 1) Jumpin' Jack Flash; 2) Carol; 3) Stray Cat Blues; 4) Love In Vain; 5) Midnight Rambler; 6) Sympathy For The Devil; 7) Live With Me; 8) Little Queenie; 9) Honky Tonk Women; 10) Street Fighting Man.
The best live album ever? I'm not even sure it's the Stones' best live album!! Hahaha. I know, I've used that joke a lot. The thing is, there are legendary albums that achieve that status through sheer hard work. Others, undeservedly, are inflated by critics or fans (cough cough, Nevermind). And a handful of cases that were groundbreaking in their time, colossal albums that deserved that status because of their quality or certain special circumstances, but over time, albums from other bands, or even from the same band, with similar characteristics and better quality, have come along.
Is Get Yer Ya Ya's Out the best live album ever? I don't know. My favorite is The Who's Leeds, but historically, critics have placed these two albums on very high pedestals, and very close to each other. The thing about The Who is that there isn't another live album they've released that comes close. Isle of Wight is basically a rawer, more powerful reissue, but not necessarily better. The Stones didn't have anything close for decades either. And on stage, this is undoubtedly their best era, when Mick Taylor catapulted them to be, literally, a rock machine, and with the Beatles no longer in their shadow, to proclaim themselves "The Greatest Rock Band on the Planet."
The original album consists of 10 tracks, one recorded on November 26, 1969, at a concert in Baltimore, and the rest on the nights of November 27 and 28 at Madison Square Garden in New York. By this time, the Beatles had practically ceased to exist, and all that remained was for Paul to make it official. Keith Richards would add some vocal overdubs during January 1970.
The concerts were part of the Stones' 1969 American Tour. It's worth remembering that they had been unable to play in the USA since 1967 due to legal troubles, not only for Brian, but also for Keith and Mick. But while Jagger and Richards' problems were resolved in 1968, Jones, with his mental stability compromised by drugs and the Anita affair, was sinking deeper and deeper into a legal quagmire. The Stones wanted to tour, but they couldn't. Curiously, they were good in the 60s, but their live performances from that decade didn't compare to those of Hendrix or The Who. They knew they had the material and the potential to set stages ablaze, but Brian couldn't set foot in the United States, where the money was. We all know how they got rid of him, and less than a month later he ended up at the bottom of his swimming pool. Two days after Brian's death, the Rolling Stones made their triumphant return to the stage and kicked off that monumental tour in Hyde Park, still reeling from Jones's death, with Mick Taylor, making his debut with them, literally trembling. Hyde Park is one of the worst concerts I've ever seen or heard, but somehow it also became legendary, the Stones' own Woodstock. The thing is, after such a lamentable performance, after almost three years without touring and with a new lineup, nobody expected the Rolling Stones to recover so quickly and reach the level they achieved at Ya Ya's.
Most of the songs are original and from the '68-'69 period, except for the Berry covers, which are from their early repertoire. The thing is, they still sound like the studio versions, but completely reimagined. You know Brian is my favorite Stone, but you have to admit that what Mick Taylor does here is out of this world. It's as if he puts all the already good songs through a blues filter, with indescribable solos, weaving his guitar with the RiffMeister's in a simply heavenly way. You have to admit it, this guy, despite a shaky start, was crucial in preventing the Rolling Stones from stagnating in this early '70s period. On the contrary, he helped them redefine themselves and become capable of competing with Led Zeppelin or The Who, who were reaching their peak at that time. I don't mean to diminish Jones or Richards; they have different styles and different strengths, but neither of them is a guitar virtuoso like this young lad of barely 21 years old at the time, capable of competing with at least a Townshend or a Page.
Here, Taylor's precision and drive combine with the band's hunger for touring, resulting in a monumental blend. The songs possess a menacing quality. "Midnight Rambler," in particular, reaches its definitive version, a musical performance in which we can almost "see" Jagger acting out the lyrics. The vocal level he achieves in "Love In Vain" is truly moving, and this is saying a lot for Jagger, who is usually characterized by the force he brings to his performances, not by emotion. Many of the live versions are, in fact, better than the studio recordings, achieving an unprecedented power and an instrumental combination that leaves one breathless. Apart from The Who's Live at Leeds, released four months earlier, nothing like it had ever been heard before. It's understandable that the critics were so enthusiastic and that both albums were hailed as the Best Live Albums of All Time.
The cover is brilliant, with Charlie Watts leaping across a country road, holding a guitar in each hand, and next to him a donkey carrying another guitar and a bass drum. The donkey is supposedly based on the lyrics of Dylan's "Visions of Johanna," although those lyrics refer to a mule. But my theory, based on Watts's hat, is that it could also have been a political joke in support of the American Democrats, who had just lost power to the despotic Nixon. The title comes from a Blind Boy Fuller song, which has a line that says "Get your ya ya's out the door," noting that in Mississippi slang, "ya ya's" means donkey, but also buttocks. This is the first album on which Mick Taylor appears fully with the Stones, after only contributing to a couple of tracks on Let It Bleed. It's also the album with which they fulfilled their contract with Decca/London, making it the last non-compilation album released under that label before they began releasing music under Rolling Stones Records, with their signature tongue logo. But more than anything, it represents the transition from the Rolling Stones of the 60s to the new, distinct band they would become in the 70s.
The myth of Ya Ya's spread, and its reign would have been unassailable were it not for the 2011 release of Brussel's Affair… No, it's not a concert by their Old Majesties from their recent tours, because however much we admire the great form of these septuagenarians, it's not the same as The Three Musketeers 30 (or 50) years later. Brussel's Affair is a live recording from 1973 in Belgium, but intended for a French audience, since the French government had banned them from performing in France due to tax issues. The recording captured the Stones at their peak as a live band, just before the beginning of their decline that would culminate in Taylor's departure. It features a much broader setlist, drawn from their classic 70s albums, with Sticky Fingers and Exile as its foundation, but it also includes four of the best tracks from Ya Ya's. The sound is much clearer, and it brings all that overproduction of brass and female backing vocals that didn't exist in the '60s. To be objective, I should say that *Brussel's* is superior. But it was shelved for almost 40 years! By the time it came out, it was difficult to shake off that mythical label that had been attached to *Ya Ya's*. It's like expecting *Let It Be Naked* to suddenly occupy the space that the '70 *Let It Be* has occupied in our minds, even though it's how it should have been… Besides, despite being shorter, *Get Your Ya Ya's Out* is one of the last concerts where they are truly the Rolling Stones. That is to say, just the five of them; or the six, if we include Ian Stewart, who here is every bit as good as Nicky Hopkins. In 1970, the Stones would begin to expand their sound with that mountain of brass, harmonicas, gospel choirs, and a bunch of tricks with which they tried to replace Brian's genius. This album precisely marks that transition, and I consider it the last of the '60s, before that more glamorous and pretentious metamorphosis that would turn them into a jet-set band, with the Glimmer Twins more concerned with their image and the glitz and glamour than with their music. Don't get me wrong, it's not that Sticky or Exile are bad, but they no longer have that freshness, that originality, that genius of the '60s Stones who didn't need horns or backing vocals. Those were left at the bottom of a swimming pool and finished off with knives at Altamont, months after this recording, in the last gasp of the '60s…
The album kicks off with “Jumpin' Jack Flash”. Well, actually, it's a short intro, which, if my ears don't deceive me, is the same intro Mick Jagger uses to introduce the band in three different voices. This makes me wonder if they layered the intros from the three performances? Or are they three different people? Anyway, it's one of the first times they mention “The Biggest Band In The World,” a phrase they'll use for every tour from then on. You know that “Jumpin' Jack Flash” is one of my three all-time favorite Stones songs, and I even wanted to call my second band Crossfire Hurricane at one point. This is perhaps the best live version I've ever heard, and yet… I don't know, I still prefer the cohesion and elegant power of the studio version, the one that made me think, when I first heard it, that the Stones must be the most perfect rock machine in the universe. This version is still excellent, and over the years they'd add here and take away there, and ruin it. Here they stick to the original in the best way possible for a live performance of a song like this. You can tell Jagger is pouring his heart and soul into it and delivers a great vocal performance, even more energetic than in the studio. Keith shines with the riff, now with the open G tuning that gives his guitar that characteristic timbre, and Taylor adds bluesy flourishes that enhance the song. But I don't know. It's slightly slower, the bass, which is prominent in the studio version, gets a little lost in the mix, and Wyman even hits a few wrong notes (at 2:53). The backing vocals also lose some of that perfect, almost devilish harmony they achieve in the studio with overdubs, which doesn't quite come across the same way here for obvious reasons. Of course, I prefer it like this, a bit raw, to the versions where the backing vocals are done by a gospel choir, but I simply want to say that despite being the best live version of the song, it still falls short of the original single. Even so, what a way to start, setting the stage ablaze with one of their most iconic songs. At the end, we can hear the roar of the crowd and Mick, the older version, interacting with them.
Then we hear RiffMeister kicking things off with their version of Chuck Berry's "Carol", where a young Mick joins in for a bluesy arrangement right in the middle of the intro riff. The song is much slower, Keith takes the lead guitar, I suppose because over the years he's become a master of the arrangements for this song they've been playing since '64. It's truly an incredible jam, with the guitars alternating. Taylor is more understated, and Richards throws in those occasional bursts of energy. Ian Stewart's boogie piano is in the background, Watts controls the breaks and bursts that give the song its life, and Bill is very precise this time. At 1:25 comes one of those breaks where they return to the main riff and Keith follows with a great solo, simple, but with tremendous feeling. You can also tell they're having fun. Well, maybe Taylor not so much, but this time his virtuosity gives way to the rock and roll that Keith handles best.
Then come the first notes of “Stray Cat Blues”, completely transforming it from the dark and menacing tone of the Bleed version to a more subdued and emotive one. The sharp riff of the original is replaced by a sweet arpeggio, and Mick Jagger changes the melody to one that initially conveys more guilt and regret; it sounds almost sweet, but the intensity builds until it ends in a more breathtaking way than the studio version. Taylor takes the lead guitar this time and demonstrates why the Stones chose an unknown kid as their guitarist, giving an elegant blues twist to a song that had nothing to do with it, with refined and very dynamic arrangements, without missing a single note, and catapulting the song to celestial levels. Bill completely changes the bass line and shines with the arrangements, although it's still a bit quiet in the mix and there are still some minor distractions. But I like that they left those small errors in. They even go so far as to shorten the version, and the keyboard, which plays an important role in the studio, I don't know if it's muted or removed, but with all due respect to Ian, it's not missed. A devastating and completely changed version, in which, interestingly, Jagger reduces the groupie's age from 15 to 13.
Then there's the gorgeous version of "Love In Vain", very similar to the one on Bleed, with Keith taking center stage again with the sweet arpeggio. Jagger sings with great emotion, improving with every note. I love when he sings "When the train comes to the station" and Taylor does that arrangement mimicking a train whistle. Then his guitar gradually becomes more prominent, culminating in that superb slide solo, even more emotive than his namesake's. That part of the solo alone is pure gold. The studio version is good, but the interplay of guitars and the new dimension that a young Mick brings to it is remarkable. It's the elegance, fluidity, and ease of a bluesman who must have been mastering the guitar for over 10 years. He elevates the song to an orgasmic, virtuosic level, on par with Clapton. You can start to feel this young man's touch and influence on the band, even though his bandmates initially underestimated him.
Next up is “Midnight Rambler” with its pounding riff and Mick's harmonica. The old Mick. They stick to the original too, but it's interesting to follow both guitars, Keith's more distorted one and Mick's (the younger Mick's) cleaner one. At first, it doesn't differ much from the Bleed version, but then the harmonica solos begin, the rhythm changes, and above all, the twin guitar solo, which is exquisite. I'm not a particular fan of the song, but here it really comes alive, and that dialogue between guitars and harmonicas is sublime. Just as it built in intensity, it gradually fades until almost complete silence, which the audience uses to their advantage to give a standing ovation. Listen to the guitars here, lamenting and answering each other, until Jagger picks up the lines, “Well you heard about the Boston… It's not one of those.” Charly and Bill combine to lay down the beat, which gradually accelerates until it finds its rhythm, and suddenly we're in another musical orgasm, which extends throughout the climactic section where Jagger describes the attack and rape in a chilling way; you can almost see him doing that grotesque dance he performed in this section. It's a shame there's no video of these concerts. The song continues to build, accelerating, the guitars continue to crackle with magic and exude mastery, until the end when you hear the roar of the crowd acknowledging their incredible version. This is one of those songs that should be listened to with your eyes closed and at full volume. By far better than the original, and I think the best on this album.
Then comes “Sympathy For The Devil”, which is also a great version, but I have a similar experience with it as with “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” Here, even though Watts goes all out to create that intricate rhythm, it sounds bluesier and more refined. The congas and maracas that give it that menacing voodoo feel are missing, and I don't think Mick sings with the same intensity. And the “Whoo Hooo’s”—the song isn't the same without them. The guitar solo that starts at the three-minute mark is almost entirely Richards's, and it makes you forget all of this. I'm the first to underestimate Mick Taylor, but it makes me wonder what would have become of the Stones without this guy at that critical moment. Would they have stagnated like they did in the Wood era? Much of the credit for the Stones in the first half of the 70s truly rests on the skillful hands of Mick Taylor, who delivers another pure blues solo at 4:30, making Richards' original guitar solo (one of his best) sound like a childish attempt. Another tremendous version, but I'm not sure it surpasses the Beggar's version.
“Live With Me” sounds faster, more complex, and more menacing. The bass is huge, slightly altered, or perhaps it just sounds more elastic and deeper with this increased speed? Keith contributes to the vocal harmonies (though it's possibly from the overdubs he added later). In the mix, Keith is heard on the right and Taylor on the left. Richards does most of the lead guitar work, and Mick simply adds some very Block-esque licks and fills. But I don't know. It's not a bad version; it's very energetic, but I don't love it. At least there are no horns here.
“Little Queenie” is another Berry song, which they used for a slower, bluesier jam. It doesn't appear on any of the Stones' previous albums, if I remember correctly, but it must have been part of their live material in the mid-1980s. Ian Stewart's boogie-woogie is back. The guitars use the melody as a pretext for a formidable dialogue, especially at 2:15, when they repeat the opening riff and launch into a solo that blends blues and old-school rock and roll. A fine tribute to Keith's idol.
Then we have that gigantic opening riff of “Honky Tonk Women”, in the single version, which is enhanced by the addition and arrangements of… yes, the young man. The version is slightly slower, and Charlie omits the distinctive cowbell, but all in all, it's more powerful, and Taylor's pure blues contributes enormously, blending almost miraculously with the song's country feel. This is a clear example of what Mick does. Somehow, he manages to give it greater fluidity; none of his notes sound forced. He does everything with a naturalness that gives the impression that the original is exactly as it is, but in reality, he propels the songs forward with every note. They alternate places in the solo, but somehow, elegance is the word that distinguishes Taylor, and his arrangements shine more than Keith's solo. This will be a constant on the following albums, and Richards (and later Mick) will begin to feel jealous of the increasingly prominent role of that young man who came to give the group a touch more artistry.
We close with “Street Fighting Man”, in a much rockier version, without those acoustic guitar riffs that make the Beggar's version magical. This one is much more powerful, with the two guitars alternating and, once again, young Mick overshadowing everyone with his exceptional performance. Bill also shines with that phenomenal bass scale, and Watts changes the rhythm, more understated on the album, to one more in keeping with the energy unleashed by the others. The song gains in intensity and with the sharp solos, but it loses some of its acoustic, streetwise essence that makes it so special. It's not bad, though; at the end, you can hear the roar of the crowd in waves (God knows what Jagger was doing on stage) until the ovation that closes the song and the album. I'd even highlight it in red, buuuuuuuuuuuut, the original riff is completely lost here.
I agree that the point of live performances isn't to play the studio version note for note, and in that respect, they can't be faulted. Some versions from this concert surpass the originals. Other studio versions are so perfect that they're unbeatable. Another example of this would be "Under My Thumb," which appears on the 3-CD extended version released in 2009, where Bill has to replace Jones's magical marimbas with just bass. The original album, the one that went down in history as one of the best live recordings ever made, is this 10-track set, full of energy and blues, based on the band's two best albums, with Taylor shining brightly and still without the reins I feel the Glimmer Twins would impose on him, and above all, without the pompous horns that would be incorporated on the next tour and albums.
Is it the best live album ever? I don't know. Personally, I prefer The Who's Leeds. But Get Yer Ya Ya's Out captures the Rolling Stones on perhaps their three best nights in their 50-year career, at the exact moment, in that precise transition to a very different band from the one Brian Jones founded: The Greatest Band on the Planet! An absolute must-have.
By Corvan
Jan/30/2014
