The Stones in peak form, having with this album reached the point where everything always seems just on the verge of falling apart (listen to that lazy backbeat on "Sway," easily one of their greatest songs; the chorus of "Can't You Hear Me Knocking," with its vocal declamation/piano vamping/guitar sliding just off-kilter enough to be note-perfect). One of the few rock albums to utilize horns and strings with proper contextuality (only to be outdone with their next release...): rather than filling in space or adding some "mood" or "colour," these additions flesh out the emotional range of the songs themselves (as does the Santana-lite jam at the end of "CYHMK'ing", with its suspenseful repetition and restraint). Despite being nearly killed by FM radio, "Brown Sugar" remains a perfect opener, with that fantastic electric/acoustic guitar interplay and the castanets, which burst in through the saloon doors and swagger on up to the bar, but only hint at the brash, swaggering shitkicking that the listener gets from this album. "Moonlight Mile" is a perfect closer, sleepy, resigned, yet ecstatic. The sleaze factor also helps (packaging and all), what with the sex and drugs and generally foggy malaise over the whole thing, letting the highs really rise in contrast. They couldn't consciously make an album this good - it ain't about consciousness, it's about guitar, bass, and drums.
–Will
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