SUICIDE @ 45

 

December 28th marks the 45th anniversary of the release of Suicide’s eponymous debut LP. It’s a singular monument to mutant electronic rock-a-billy, which would become one of the landmark albums of the emerging electronic music scene and give birth to the concept of the “synth duo”.

Prior to recording their debut, Martin Rev and Alan Vega had been slumming it in the ghetto clubs of NYC since the early 1970s. Inspired by seeing Iggy & the Stooges, Alan Vega, who was initially focused on visual arts, decided he could turn his hand to fronting a rock band with the same kind of frightening intensity as Mr. Pop. Vega, who was raised on the hip shaking hiccups of Elvis Presley, had that essence of ’50s greaser delinquent baked into his DNA.

Hooking up with keyboardist Rev, the duo were the first band on record to self-describe their music as “punk” in their hand drawn gig flyers & handbills of the early 1970s. By the time the actual “punk” scene started to bubble up around them in clubs like CBGBs, Suicide found themselves playing alongside contemporaries like the Ramones, Patti Smith, Talking Heads and the rest of the NY underground scene. The difference with Suicide was that they were mostly hated by audiences, though they were deeply loved by certain musicians. People like The Cars’ Ric Ocasek would become stalwart champions for the band, helping to promote and further their career.

Their live performances were notorious for being awkward, confrontational and, on frequent occasions, threatened to break into violence. With Rev holding sternly at his keyboards, offering little beyond a disinterested sneer, Vega turned the sexual intensity of Elvis into a a fun-house mirror distortion, punctuated by psychotic screams amid lyrics that twisted rock & roll iconography into gritty street poetry. During one of these gigs, Marty Thau, who was starting up his own record label, happened to catch their act and took a liking to what he saw and heard. He ended up signing the duo as his first artists for his new label, Red Star Records.

When it came time to record the album, Vega and Rev were so well rehearsed with their material, after having played it live for 5 years, it only took four days in the studio to capture it all. The majority of the songs were basically as done on stage, though the album’s sprawling nightmare centerpiece, Frankie Teardrop, underwent a drastic lyric rewrite after Vega read a newspaper article about a factory worker who murdered his wife and child and then committed suicide. This happened during the mixing phase of production, so there is a version with the original lyrics, which was recently released on a retrospective compilation. Personally, I think Vega made the right decision. While the original has some historical interest, the story of a murderous gangster is far less emotionally triggering than the tale of a downtrodden struggling every-man who’s pushed to his limit. That’s a story that can resonate with anyone who’s struggled to make ends meet. For the production, co-producer Craig Leon had managed to get his hands on an Eventide digital delay unit to use on the vocal tracks, adding dub inspired echo effects to further enhance the alien sounds of the album and bring Vega's guttural screams into deeper resonance.

When the album was released, while it garnered some positive reviews in the UK, the US press were generally unimpressed and dismissed the LP as inconsequential or even stupid, but that shortsightedness would be exposed with time as the band were vindicated by creating one of the most revered and influential albums to come from the punk and new wave movements of the ‘70s. I remember seeing it on the shelves in my local record shop and couldn’t resist my curiosity, so I picked up my first copy sometime in 1980. It immediately blew me away with its stark simplicity and razor sharp edge. Vega’s vocals could be terrifying, mostly due to that inhuman scream he could stab into an arrangement, slicing through it like a switchblade knife. One of our favorite things to do in our senior year of high school was to go in my friends truck and blast Frankie Teardrop over his stereo in the school parking lot at night, when the other kids were parked there, hanging out with nothing to do. Hearing that scream rip across the football field was a real delight.

Since its release, Suicide has gone on to be recognized as one of the most seminal albums to come out of the NYC music scene. They were certainly one of the most unique and distinctive groups of that time. No one else had their sound as they straddled this strange netherworld between punk and electronica. They had one foot in the nostalgia of the 1950s while the other strode into our dystopian future, sounding totally modern, despite their primitive and even antiquated electronic organs & drum machines. Their minimalist approach set them on course to inspire the next generation of electronic musicians, and the effect of that barrier-breakthrough still resonates to this day.

THROBBING GRISTLE - TG24 @ 20

 

Celebrating its 20th anniversary today is the CD reissue box set by Throbbing Gristle, TG24.  It was a completely remastered collection of live TG performances covering the period from their first appearance on July 6th, 1976, at the Air Gallery, to their Goldsmith College performance on March 13th, 1980.

Originally, in 1980, TG released a limited run of cassette box sets called 24 Hours of Throbbing Gristle.  The set included live recordings of their first 25 performances (IRC 03 contained two short shows, one per side).  The set also included two additional tapes of radio interviews, a personalized collage and group photographs.  This was all packaged in a black attache case.  These editions were hand duplicated using facilities at Industrial Records studio, therefore the number of editions issued was extremely limited.  Individual editions of some select live shows from this set were later sold separately by Industrial Records, as well as being licensed to other labels or bootlegged to create various live LP releases over the years. 

Sometime after the turn of the new millennia, Mute Records began negotiating with TG to remaster and reissue their back catalog, which included discussions of their live recording archive.  Eventually, a decision was made to reconstruct the 24 Hrs box set as a deluxe CD limited edition.  The process for doing this meant spending months trying to source the best possible versions of the original recordings which could be obtained, rummaging through the archives of all four band members.  TG recorded all their live performances on regular stereo cassettes, rather than reel-to-reel, some of which were in less than ideal condition by the time Chris Carter got around to trying to identify suitable versions to use for remastering.  In some cases, tapes were damaged and, in others, the actual recording had some technical issues which necessitated seeking out alternates.  For some performances, multiple simultaneous recordings were made.  One may have been direct from the mixing board while the other may have been an open mic recording to capture the sound in the audience.  The members of TG reviewed all alternative recordings to determine which version best captured the show and then selected that, even if it may have been of somewhat lesser quality, technically.  For the mastering Chris only employed minimal processing to adjust some output levels, though avoided using any compression.  Some digital noise reduction was employed in select recordings when the noise level was deemed distracting, but some noise was left in as its removal made the recording sound artificially “clean”.

During the process of putting the set together, Chris Carter initially gave up on including IRC-26 (Scala Cinema) because of insurmountable technical issues.  The ion generator used during TG’s live shows had a habit of discharging unexpectedly at times, throwing off sparks, and was so intense at this particular performance that it effected the cassette deck, ruining the second side of the tape with electronic interference.  An alternative show, IRC29 was selected to substitute.   The set of 24 CDs was already duplicated & packaged when the original master cassette was finally unearthed and found to have minimal issues with the recording.  An additional CD was then rushed into production so that the set ended up coming with a bonus 25th CD, added at the last minute. 

For the packaging of the CD edition, a special cloth bound box was created and embossed with the TG24 logo on the top.  Inside, along with the CDs - each of which was packaged in cardboard slip cases with printed graphics, the set included a large wax sealed envelope.  This was packed with an Industrial News magazine, numerous postcards, photos, badges and patches.  An authentication card was also included and signed by all four band members.  To launch the CDs, Mute set up a special art exhibit of TG memorabilia in a London gallery.  The exhibit featured such items as the original TG designer camouflage uniforms, custom audio equipment like Chris Carter’s “Gristlizer” sound processors and Sleazy’s cassette based “sampler” mini keyboard, along with press cuttings, posters and photographs.

Getting my hands on a copy of this set was one of the big WOW moments of my days of indulging in collectible musical products.  It was rather overwhelming to be suddenly in possession of so much TG music, much of which was completely unfamiliar to me.  Their live shows were never repetitive.  Certainly, as the group matured, some pieces found themselves performed live more than once, but they never sounded the same from show to show. For the most part, each performance from each show was its own entity.  Working through them all for an initial listen was a process that took a couple of weeks of exploring, usually one CD per day, if possible.  Live TG is not an “easy listening” experience, even in their “nicest” of incarnations.  Even with Chris’ remastering, the recordings were still sourced from cassettes, sometimes recorded off a mixing board and sometimes recorded using a binaural microphone system (the infamous “head” on a mic stand in the audience you can see in some TG live photos).  As such, the sound can be harsh, distorted and piercing, so you have to be in a certain state of mind to be able to appreciate what’s there.  Sometimes a TG show can seem like a pot just sitting there simmering on the stove with no real sense of anything happening.  Then, without warning, the BEAST can awaken and start tearing your ears apart.  You can be bored one minute and enthralled the next.  TG live was always like a conjuration of some kind of trans-dimensional entity breaking through with it’s Lovecraftian tentacles grasping at the audience’s perceptions.  Sometimes the spell worked, sometimes it didn’t or lasted only for a brief moment before dispersing.  But that was the magic of it all.

I don’t have the physical version of this set anymore, but I scanned and photographed it all and have digital files of all the audio.  I had to sell it off when money was tight and costs of living took precedence.  But it was a treasure while I had it and I tried to make sure it went to a good home when I did part with it.  I can’t think of many other groups who could release something like this and make it seem essential rather than self-indulgence.  A year after its release, a companion matching box set was issued to collect the remaining 10 live shows TG performed before their 1981 termination after their San Francisco final show.  The two boxes sure looked nice together and I’ll always be happy I had them in my home for the years they were here.

Creating this box set would not only revive interest for fans of TG, it also proved to be a catalyst for the group to reform not long after its release.  The process of putting the set together had managed to thaw the ice which had been long built up between certain members and, though some issues would remain contentious between them, the group did manage to enter into a highly productive second life until December of 2010, when Gen packed it in after their last live show in London and Sleazy passing beyond the veil shortly thereafter.

THE RESIDENTS - SANTA DOG @ 50

Marking their golden anniversary, 50 years since their first official musical product, The Residents were formally born on this day, December 20th, 1972, with the release of their double 7” single, Santa Dog. This four track EP would begin a career which would see this group of mysterious, anonymous artistic outcasts redefine the meaning of independent alternative music and outsider art.

While Santa Dog was their first proper release on their own imprint, Ralph Records, the group had been simmering away in obscurity for a few years before this, notoriously sending a demo to Warner Bros which was unceremoniously rejected, returned to the then nameless act c/o the “Residents”, who promptly turned defeat into victory by christening themselves based on WB’s seal of disapproval. Being dismissed by the majors was enough incentive for the group to decide to go completely independent and start their own label.

The first pressing of the EP was released by Residents, Uninc., with each track credited to a different fake performer: Ivory And The Brain Eaters - Fire, Delta Nudes - Explosion, The College Walkers - Lightning & Arf And Omega featuring The Singing Lawn Chairs - Aircraft Damage. Some copies had the tracks disordered, likely due to production oversights, and the gate-fold covers of many first pressings were stuck together due to the records being packaged before the lamination had a chance to properly dry. Most of these early pressings were given away to friends or mailed to celebrities like Frank Zappa and Richard Nixon, with Nixon refusing to accept his copy.

The EP immediately defined the off-kilter, bizarro aesthetic of the group and has since become a prized collectors item for the group’s ardent aficionados. The group has gone on to issue periodic updated recordings of the first song as a signpost whenever they’ve evolved to a level where they feel like there’s a need to reinstate the theme again to illustrate their evolution. A number of variations and compilations of Santa Dog recordings have appeared over the years and the original 1972 recordings have been added to expanded editions of Meet The Residents, as well as being included in various retrospective collections. Santa Dog is ground zero for The Residents. Everything that they were and are has progressed from this cornerstone little EP.

THE WHO SELL OUT @ 55

 

Celebrating 55 years on the shelves this week is the third studio LP by The Who, The Who Sell Out, which was released on December 15th, 1967. While its high concept made it one of the band’s poorest selling albums, it remains a critical favorite to this day.

The initial plan for the album was to call it “Who’s Lily?” in reference to the single, Pictures of Lily, but band confidant, Richard Barnes, proposed the idea of doing parodies of commercial jingles, inspired by their cover of the Batman theme. It was a suggestion to which the band initially responded with derision, but the band’s management team, Kit Lambert and Chris Stamp, next suggested the idea of a concept album paying tribute to Britain’s pirate radio stations, a media outlet which was a vital cultural driver for the UK Mod movement. With recent court rulings making it illegal for most of these stations to broadcast, the tribute to the format became even more relevant. The concept neatly accommodated Barnes’ commercial jingle idea too, making them handy connecting pieces between the main songs. Titling it “The Who Sell Out” was an ironic reference to some of the actual legit commercial work the band had done recently.

The album began production in September of ’67 after completing an American tour, with work completed by the end of October. Mixing was done by Kit Lambert and Damon Lyon-Shaw intermittently throughout November. Musically, the album offered an array of psychedelic inspired pop songs with Pete Townsend showing off some Hendrix inspired guitar freakouts. Townsend was responsible for writing the bulk of the songs on the album, though bassist John Entwistle contributed three tracks and one was written by Speedy Keen, guest vocalist on that song. The majority of the connecting commercial jingles were created in the studio by Keith Moon and John Entwistle.

The cover for the album showed the four band members split between the front and back cover, each featured in a different advertisement relating to connecting jingles contained on the album. On the front is Pete Townsend applying Odorono brand deodorant from an oversized stick. Roger Daltrey is shown sitting in a bathtub full of Heinz baked beans (holding an oversized tin can of the same). Daltrey variously claimed that he had either caught pneumonia, the flu, or "the worst cold he’d ever had" after sitting for a prolonged period in the bathtub, as the beans had just come out of the fridge and were "freezing cold". On the back is Keith Moon applying Medac (an acne ointment) from an oversized tube to an oversized pimple. John Entwistle is shown in a leopard-skin Tarzan suit, squeezing a blonde model in a leopard-skin bikini with one arm and a teddy bear with the other (an ad for the Charles Atlas exercise course mentioned in one of the album's fake commercials).

Upon its release, with the Mod scene waning, the concept of the album seemed to miss the mark with the young record buying public, but the critics loved it and offered a great deal of praise for its sense of humor and the cleverness of the concept. Their poking fun at the commercial market ended up causing problems, however. The commercial references mixed real and fake products, which resulted in a slew of legal issues for the band, their management and the record label as various companies filed suit for misrepresentation of their products and unauthorized use of their intellectual property. Despite the legal issues and lackluster fan response, the album has, nonetheless, gone on to sustain a legacy as one of the groups best efforts.

PSYCHIC TV - FORCE THE HAND OF CHANCE @ 40

 

Marking its 40th anniversary today is the debut LP from Psychic TV, Force The Hand Of Chance, which was released on December 11th, 1982. As well as confounding the expectations of Throbbing Gristle fans, the album, along with its accompanying bonus LP of acoustic ritual themes, contains the DNA for at lease a half dozen sub-genres of music which would evolve throughout the ‘80s. It also served as a calling card for the “anti-cult cult”, Thee Temple Ov Psychick Youth (TOPY), the pseudo-occult/paramilitary order which Genesis P-Orridge and Monte Cazzazza had been concocting since the late stages of TG.

After the demise of TG, Genesis P-Orridge shifted focus towards the creation of a new kind of intellectual and spiritual network which would focus on personal development through revitalized pagan rituals and magickal techniques largely related to theories & practices developed by Aleister Crowley and his contemporaries. Evidence of this work first surfaced on the 1981 TG 12” of Discipline, which included the phrase “Marching music for Psychic Youth” below one of Sleazy’s photos of a knife holding young lad on the back. The initial conception of the organization included prescribed manners of dress and grooming in order to affect a kind of paramilitary-meets-religious aesthetic, including the grey clothing, priest collars and shaved heads. These were adorned with emblems like the Psychick Cross, designed by Gen, and other arcane occult symbols.

In the immediate aftermath of TG’s “termination”, Gen had little interest in pursuing music and was prepared to give it up in favor of writing and visual arts. It was only through the dogged insistence of Alternative TV band member, Alex Fergusson, that the focus would return to that medium. Alex took some poetry of Gen’s and created music for it and that was enough for Gen to realize there was a new opportunity to do something different from TG. The two combined the names of their individual projects to come up with “Psychic TV”, which would function as the propaganda arm of TOPY. Also, the “TV” component was key to them being more than a “band”. By enlisting Peter Christopherson into the project, thanks to his developing interest in video production while working with the Hipgnosis design firm, they envisioned PTV becoming an actual media outlet and even a proper TV channel at some point, producing not only music, but visual content: from documentaries to music videos to ambient TV. This was rather visionary as it was years before the development of subscription TV services and specialty channels. Cable TV was only just beginning, but the writing was on the wall for where it could go.

Because of the notoriety of Throbbing Gristle, when Psychic TV began looking for a label to release their music and videos, they came to the attention of "Stevo" (Stephen Pearce) at Some Bizarre Records. He offered them a contract and financed the production of their debut LP and its followup, Dreams Less Sweet. It was a relationship which would ultimately result in PTV including "Stevo, pay us what you owe us" comments for years afterwards on their LP liner notes. Apparently he had a habit of not paying bands royalties from record sales.

Regardless of future disputes, unlike TG’s process of doing everything themselves, from running a label to sustaining their own recording studio facility, PTV now had a budget to actually utilize professional recording facilities & engineers and even take advantage of some state of the art experimental recording tools. This included the “Zuccarelli Holophonic" TM recording system, which replicated 3D hearing via a two channel process that emulated how the human body picks up sound. The stereo sound pickup system was housed in an actual body which you could place in any position and then have it pick up the sound precisely as a real person would hear it in the room. Moving around the room would create three dimensional soundscapes for the listener, particularly when monitored over good quality speakers or headphones. This process would be employed for both albums produced for Some Bizarre, with the liner notes boasting that “no microphones” (of a conventional sort) were used for the recording.

Musically, Alex was the key driver of the compositions and arrangements and he was about as far away from Chris Carter’s electronics and technology as you could get. Alex was more rooted in folk and Velvet Underground influences, but was able to go outside these by bringing in elements of “spaghetti western” Morricone style motifs, pop ballads and even a solid funk groove. As a result, the main LP offers up a seeming hodgepodge of superficially disconnected styles, yet somehow they all work together to create a distinct whole.

The opening track, Just Drifting, announces PTV’s intent to separate from the past as distinctly as possible. It’s a gentle, acoustic guitar driven, folksy ballad inspired by Gen becoming father to little Carresse. I can imagine some people simply couldn’t grasp the shift from screeching “WE HATE YOU LITTLE GIRLS” to Gen softly crooning a lullaby for his new baby. And the singing was pretty much on key and melodic, completely upending theories that Gen wasn’t capable of mustering a proper vocal. Though it starts off soft and dreamy, the album is not without its barbs and sharp edges and its construction is thoroughly subversive, once you get over the initial shock of its seductively soothing intro. Terminus is cinematic in its sonic scope with its twanging guitars, but the lyric is deeply disturbing and the piece eventually erupts into a wall of terrifying noise before again subsiding into a gentle coda. Stolen Kisses offers up some genuine pop tunefulness with Soft Cell’s Marc Almond guesting on vocals. The other key album highlight is the booty busting Ov Power, which offers up one of the most solid post-punk/funk dance grooves of the era, verging into PiL territory akin to This Is Not a Love Song. The theme of the tune is more visceral, however, as it extols the virtues and efficacy of the orgasm and its viscus byproduct in relation to magickal rituals and sigilization, a practice promoted by TOPY for manifesting one's true will. The album is wrapped up by a full on recruitment poster of a song featuring muted marching music underpinning a proclamation read by TOPY spokesman, notorious tattoo and piercing artist Mr. Sebastian, defining the motives and objectives of “The Temple”. A video produced for the track shows the spokesman at a podium, but it's not Mr. Sebastian, but rather film maker Derek Jarman acting as body double.

The bonus LP, Themes, which was included with the first 5000 copies of the album, along with a poster of Gen & Sleazy in full TOPY regalia, offered listeners a more singular kind of audio experience as it provided “functional” music to be used in the enactment of personal magickal rituals. A variety of ritual instruments including various hand drums, thigh bone trumpets, bicycle wheels, bells and occasional piano were employed to create an evolving soundtrack for practical ritual application. The text on the back of the poster included instructions for use along with cautions on being prepared for the potentially unpredictable effects of one’s efforts. As a listening experience, it’s a dissociating, transcendental collection of primal sounding improvisations which are completely different from the material offered on the main LP.

Upon its release, reactions were decidedly mixed as many from the TG fan camp were knocked sideways by the album’s complete departure from TG’s wall of noise & use of electronics and synthesizers. Those elements weren’t completely missing, but they were only accents. The main aesthetic of the album was deceptively more conventional in some regards, though undercut by excursions into experimentation. I first bought the double LP version, 2nd hand, in late 1984 after becoming obsessed with TG in the wake of a particularly transformative LSD experience. My initial reaction was like most TG fans, taken aback by the total disconnect, superficially, from what I’d come to expect from P-Orridge. However, I’ve always been partial to having my expectations of an artist challenged and it didn’t take long for me to be able to warp my head around the method to this new madness and fall in love with the album and the Themes bonus LP.

Over the ensuing years, it’s been reissued in a variety of often dubious editions, some lifted from vinyl and even the so-called “official” remasters have failed to comprehend the dynamics of the original masters, normalizing the audio levels on some connective elements and compromising their impact. I’ve yet to encounter an edition which has corrected this error. Themes has been released separately in a number of editions itself, further adding to the confusion over trying to assemble a good quality contemporary edition. Its legacy, however, remains as a remarkable signpost of things to come in the world of alternative music in the years following its release. It defies trendiness and can still hold up to modern listening. It remains, along with its followup, Dreams Less Sweet, some of the best PTV would ever offer, at least from this incarnation and for my preferences.

AEROSMITH - DRAW THE LINE @ 45

 

Today marks the 45th anniversary of the release of Aerosmith’s fifth studio LP, Draw the Line, which was issued on December 9th, 1977. In many ways, it represented the end of the band’s “classic” early era and ushers in their entrance into a dark phase of their career before becoming ‘80s chart toppers a few years later.

At the time the album was recorded, the band were deeply submerged in the mire of drug abuse and this resulted in a markedly compromised level of productivity in the studio. Joe Perry confessed in the band memoir, Walk This Way, "We were drug addicts dabbling in music, rather than musicians dabbling in drugs.” It signaled the beginning of the end for his relationship with the band at that time, a situation which would soon mean his departure from the fold for many years before returning.

Recording of the album took place at The Cenacle in Armonk, New York, which was a sprawling 300 room former convent suggested by the band’s manager in the hopes that the location would help to keep them sober by virtue of its isolation. That strategy proved to be completely ineffective, however, given the fact that, as Steven Tyler later recalled, "Drugs can be imported, …we have our resources. Dealers deliver! Hiding us away… was a prescription for total lunacy." The band’s front men, Tyler and Perry, were so overtaken by their drug indulgences that they simply didn’t care much about what happened with the album, opening up the door for others to contribute a lot more than they had done on previous records. Perry again recalls:

“A lot of people had input into that record because Steven and I had stopped giving a fuck. "Draw the Line," "I Want To Know Why," and "Get It Up" were the only things Steven and I wrote together. Tom, Joey and Steven came up with "Kings and Queens," and Brad played rhythm and lead. Brad and Steven wrote "The Hand That Feeds," which I didn't even play on because I'd stayed in bed the day they recorded it and Brad played great on it anyway.”

The band’s producer, Jack Douglas, offers this insight:

“So I started Draw the Line, and for a while gave it my all. But because they were half-hearted about the record, I was too. Steven wasn't writing at all. The lyrics to "Critical Mass" came from a dream I had at the Cenacle. I never expected Steven to record it, but he didn't have anything else, so he used my lyrics as written. Same with "Kings and Queens." Steven and I wrote the lyrics together, which was like pulling teeth.”

The resulting album was uneven, to say the least. It was trashed by many in the music press. Billy Altman of Rolling Stone called the LP "a truly horrendous record, chaotic to the point of malfunction and with an almost impenetrably dense sound adding to the confusion." Robert Christgau considered the album the product of a band "out of gas”. I bought the record when it came out and it was the last Aerosmith LP I’d ever spend my coin on. However, the title track is still my all time favorite Aerosmith song, hands down. What made me love the band’s early works was their ability to nail the most distinctive riffs and the hook for Draw the Line was so furious and piercing, with that killer slide slicing through the mix, it gave me chills every time I put it on. It was the last incredibly flash of brilliance the band would ever muster, in my opinion. The top ten hits they’d produce throughout the ‘80s were no more than mainstream power pop to my ears and nowhere near the savage intensity of this song.

THE ROLLING STONES - THEIR SATANIC MAJESTIES REQUEST @ 55

Marking its 55th anniversary today is one of the most controversial LPs by the Rolling Stones, Their Satanic Majesties Request, which was released on December 8th, 1967. It was the band’s one and only full blown foray into psychedelic music, a move which resulted in accusations of them creating a “second hand Sgt. Pepper”, while offering some of the band’s most inventive, adventurous music.

Production on the album stared way back in January of ’67 and dragged on throughout the year thanks to a combination of ongoing legal issues and sheer self indulgent chaos. Various band members were regularly being distracted by court appearances and jail time, which meant that it was rare for the entire band to find themselves working in the studio at the same time. When band members did show up, it was often with entourages in tow, further compromising productivity. One of the most level headed band members, Bill Wyman, had this to say about the album’s production:

“Every day at the studio it was a lottery as to who would turn up and what – if any – positive contribution they would make when they did. Keith would arrive with anywhere up to ten people, Brian with another half-a-dozen and it was the same for Mick. They were assorted girlfriends and friends. I hated it! Then again, so did Andrew (Oldham - band manager) and (he) just gave up on it. There were times when I wish I could have done, too.”

Wyman channeled his frustration into the song, In Another Land, which parodied the mayhem and confusion of the sessions. With the band’s manager bailing, the group were left to their own devices to try to cobble together an album in the midst of all the drug addled madness. Retrospectively, the group has recognized the shortcomings of the experience and the effect on the final product. Jagger stated:

“It’s really like sort of got-together chaos. Because we all panicked a little, even as soon as a month before the release date that we had planned, we really hadn't got anything put together. We had all these great things that we'd done, but we couldn't possibly put it out as an album. And so we just got them together, and did a little bit of editing here and there.”

Jagger disavowed the album in 1995, saying: "it's not very good. It had interesting things on it, but I don't think any of the songs are very good. There's two good songs on it. The rest of them are nonsense."

Along with Jagger’s harsh appraisal, critics and fans were sharply divided by the album with some praising its risks while others dismissed it as a rip-off of Sgt. Pepper. Personally, I find it one of the group’s most intriguing albums with some of my favorite songs from the band. Citadel, She’s a Rainbow and 2000 Light Years from Home offer a triptych of psychedelic perfection and are worth the price of admission alone. Yes, there are sloppy indulgences like Sing This All Together and On With the Show, but I think it’s unfair to slag it as a “lesser Pepper”. For me, the two LPs are like sides of a coin. Where The Beatles offer the “lighter” side of the LSD experience, The Stones, as was often their role in the dichotomy between the two bands, lured the listener into the darker recesses of psychedelia. The two should be taken together as offering a complete spectrum of the drug culture.

The album’s title and cover were also sources of controversy, comparison and criticism. The title, which was a play on the "Her Britannic Majesty requests and requires..." text that appears inside a British passport, had to be modified for some markets due to the term “Satanic”. The album was released in South Africa and the Philippines as “The Stones Are Rolling” in order to avoid offense to the more religious public. The original cover concept for the album was to have a photograph of Jagger naked on a cross, but that was scrapped as being too crass. They ultimately settled on an idea which, again, drew comparisons to Sgt. Pepper, but AGAIN, if you understand the friendly rivalry between the bands, makes perfect sense as you find numerous references in each to the other band. The Beatles cover had “welcome the Rolling Stones” written on a doll's jumper while the Stones had photos of The Beatles interspersed among the flowers. It was all done in fun and to make light of the supposed rivalry between the bands. Original pressings of the cover featured a “3D” effect, which was intended to be used for the entire front cover, but had to be scaled back because of the expense. In the end, the group photo got reduced and is surrounded by a psychedelic boarder graphic with the photo affixed to the center.

After this album, the band would turn sharply away from any further dabbling with psychedelia & overt experimentation in their music and return to their raw blues roots. It's a move which would define the rest of their career and contribute to the departure of Brian Jones, who's multi-instrumental prowess was largely responsible for driving the groups more adventurous arrangements. With that being the case, Satanic Majesties Request becomes a bizarre detour in the group’s musical canon. Richie Unterberger of AllMusic summed it up thusly:

“Without a doubt, no Rolling Stones album – and, indeed, very few rock albums from any era – split critical opinion as much as the Rolling Stones' psychedelic outing. Many dismiss the record as sub-Sgt. Pepper posturing; others confess, if only in private, to a fascination with the album's inventive arrangements, which incorporated some African rhythms, Mellotrons, and full orchestration. What's clear is that never before or after did the Stones take so many chances in the studio. In 1968, the Stones would go back to the basics, and never wander down these paths again, making this all the more of a fascinating anomaly in the group's discography.”