OR….The Shock of the Familiar.
Whenever I hear something new in a record I’ve heard a thousand times, I always wonder what’s changed. Me? The Times? The Country? The Cosmos?
Given the powers of digital remastering, it could even be….the Record.
This week, I’ve been alternating between the Stones and Rhino’s Nuggets’ box, the first disc of which is a replication of Lenny Kay’es Nuggets: Original Artyfacts from the First Psychedelic Era 1965-1968 (still the best-programmed of the many efforts that followed in its wake, including the other three discs in this mind-blowing box). With the world trembling yet again on the brink of Apocalypse, what else would I be listening to?
And what else would finally reveal itself as the staring point for the post-Apocalyptic world as the one hit record that might actually justify all the snobs who said rock and roll was for cretins.
I tell you they’ll be singing a different tune when it’s all that’s left of the Natural Order it sounds like it was meant to dissolve. When you can make “You’re Gonna Miss Me” sound normal…
The other thing I can’t figure, is whether the Stones spent the best part of their career running towards this Ethos…or trying to get the Hell away from it.
And whether they were right or wrong.
Here’s the 45 version…with the spoken intro and the band’s name spelled differently than on the drums they were using on American Bandstand.
Now I wonder something else: Did Dick Clark made them correct the spelling? Or did the record label make them spell like dropouts for effect to begin with?
Aw, man. Now my head’s gonna hurt all day.