‘Sympathy For The Devil’: Mick Taylor’s finest work in The Rolling Stones
Were The Rolling Stones music’s first ‘collective’ in the way we know the term today? They certainly weren’t a band in the traditional sense where playing without one of them wouldn’t be the same. The Stones are really whoever is playing with Mick and Keith (and Charlie up until his passing), so instead, it becomes a question of eras. Brian Jones and Bill Wyman brought something to the band, and Ronnie Wood and Darryl Jones brought something different. One of the most iconic eras of the band, though, was Mick Taylor’s time in the group from 1969 to 1974.
At the time, Taylor joining The Stones was seen as a coup for both parties. Since he was 17, Taylor had been acing the most thankless job in British music, playing in John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers as a replacement for some no-hoper called Eric Clapton. In the Breakers, Taylor went from a British ‘blooze’ sideman to a creative and expressive lead guitarist in his own right, taking on influences from Latin and jazz music to go with his comprehensive slide skills.
When Brian Jones got kicked out of The Stones due to his eventually fatal dependency on drink and drugs, it was actually Mayall himself who recommended to Jagger that Taylor, then 20, take his place. After a solitary session in the studio, one that Taylor was told was just session work, the Glimmer Twins were convinced. They invited him into the band full-time the day after. For Richards, in particular, this was something of a risk.
The sheer hell that being in The Rolling Stones seemed to be in the late 1960s had taken a toll on Richards’ guitar playing. Now, here he was, bringing in a guy six years his junior, who’d spent that time playing lead for one of the most demanding blues groups in the country. If there’s one thing that Keith Richards can do, though, it’s thrive when his back’s against the wall, and Taylor’s presence revitalised him right from the off. I mean literally, too, as the best example of this is from The Stones’ masterful live album, 1970’s Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out!. A record literally cut from Taylor’s first tour with the band.
Nowhere is their connection more magical than the side two opener, ‘Sympathy For The Devil’. Often, this is a song whose dark majesty falls apart live. Stripped from Beggar’s Banquet and forced into the harsh light of day, one realises just how much the recorded version’s intimacy and malice made the song work. Here, the sheer telepathy that Richards and Taylor share brings it right back to life. In the verses, Taylor provides a solid backing for Richards’ trademark weaving, which builds and builds over the course of the track before lift-off is truly achieved with their duelling solos.
Keef’s up first, and any wag with the temerity to suggest that Richards is a glorified rhythm guitarist should be forced to listen to him going off here. It’s not exactly a brutal punishment, but an educational one nonetheless. Taylor sees this bet and immediately raises the stakes. Creeping in with a few descending blues licks as Richards plays off Jagger and the band before releasing the hounds over an unforgettable final two minutes.
The late 1960s could have easily killed The Stones, but by bringing in this guitar prodigy, they saved themselves and set themselves up for their early ‘70s imperial phase. Coincidence? I think not.
