"I really like girls an awful lot," Mick Jagger confided to Rolling Stone in 1978. "And I don’t think I’d say anything really nasty about any of them." And yet the eternal kick of Some Girls is that Mick has a deliciously nasty word or two for everybody. Just when the Stones seemed to be fading away, they shadoobied back to life with some of their toughest songs ever: the punk sleaze of "Shattered," the soulful Keithness of "Beast of Burden," the late-night-disco desolation of the chart-topping "Miss You." The result was the Rolling Stones' funniest, trashiest, bitchiest LP – an all-time classic that remains their biggest-selling record.
In 1978, things weren’t looking so hot for The Rolling Stones. Most, if not all, of their earliest counterparts – The Beatles, The Animals, and The Byrds included – had either burned out or faded away years before, and two blockbuster new movements (i.e. punk and disco) were coming into full effect. Making matters even worse was the fact that the band’s previous three albums – ‘73’s Goats Head Soup, ‘74’s It’s Only Rock ‘n Roll, and ‘76’s Black and Blue – though by no means disastrous, didn’t quite touch their now-classic predecessors Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers, and Exile on Main St.
During the mid-'70s, the Rolling Stones remained massively popular, but their records suffered from Jagger's fascination with celebrity and Keith's worsening drug habit. By 1978, both punk and disco had swept the group off the front pages, and Some Girls was their fiery response to the younger generation. Opening with the disco-blues thump of "Miss You," Some Girls is a tough, focused, and exciting record, full of more hooks and energy than any Stones record since Exile on Main St.
If Some Girls isn’t the best Rolling Stones album—and sure, it’s not—it’s surely the most fascinating in terms of the band’s history and development. It came out in 1978 and was the band’s response to the punk-rock movement that had risen up and railed against the bloat of rock institutions, which by the late ‘70s the Stones had been included in. So Jagger and company took dead aim at the youngsters, even incorporating that loathsome antithesis to punk rock—disco music—into their sound and making it their own.
The unceasing campaign by the Stones' camp to wring every last drop of revenue out of one of rock's great catalogues continues with this deluxe version of what's widely considered their last great album, the lure being a second CD of 12 other songs from that era. Why couldn't they have put out those songs when the remastered version of Some Girls appeared two years ago? The tracks themselves – tidied up from demos with the help of producers Chris Kimsey and Don Was – are no disgrace. You can see why they didn't work on the original album – with the exception of So Young, yet another Jagger lyric about age-inappropriate lust, they don't quite fit with its vicious tone – but they'd make a decent mid-70s Stones record on their own.
Some records aspire to tug at your heartstrings; Some Girls wanted to play with your balls. The 1978 classic showcases sleazy come-ons (“Some Girls,” “When the Whip Comes Down”) alongside mournful goodbyes (“Beast of Burden,” “Miss You”). It was the last great Stones album (fuck off, Tattoo You—“Start Me Up” and “Waiting on a Friend” do not an album make), so it’s nice to see it getting an exhaustive overhaul à la last year’s Exile on Main St.
The Stones recorded a clutch of outstanding tunes for their classic 1978 release that didn’t make the final cut — but several did wind up on their last great album, 1981’s Tattoo You. That makes the dozen unearthed tracks on Some Girls Deluxe Edition the outtakes of the outtakes. And the substandard nature of blues-chooglers like ”When You’re Gone” and ”You Win Again” is doubly evident given their proximity to such stellar remastered highlights as ”Miss You” and ”Beast of Burden.” B- Download This:The full remastered original — skip the new stuff .
Originally released in the summer of 78, Some Girls was the best Stones LP in yonks. Sean Egan 2011 In the second half of the 1970s, the group that had epitomised youthful rebellion for more than a decade discovered, somewhat to their surprise, that they were no more immune than anyone else to generational change. When the Sex Pistols et al began deriding The Rolling Stones as Establishment and old, they, stung, responded by going back into the studio and knuckling down to an album that they knew had to be better than their recent underwhelming output.