The Rolling Stones would’ve been hard-pressed to adequately follow their magnum opus of 1972, Exile On Main Street, so Goats Head Soup inevitably suffered in comparison, at least at the time of its release half a century ago, despite the commercial popularity of its initial single “Angie” (and the infectious groove of the ever-so-coy album opener “Dancing with Mr. D”).
But the aforementioned double album, now widely regarded as one of the iconic British band’s greatest works, wasn’t greeted with a unanimously favorable response at the time of its release either, so it’s more than a little ironic that both titles have risen in estimation over the course of the multiple decades since their respective releases.
The last album to be produced by Jimmy Miller, a key architect of the Rolling Stones’ sound during their most acclaimed late Sixties period, Goats Head Soup is nonetheless seen as an early sign of the group’s creative decline over the course of the Seventies.
Culminating with his ’77 bust in Toronto, Keith Richards’ personal issues increasingly distanced him from the group’s goings on, so the balance of power in the band shifted accordingly as a result, with Mick Jagger essentially alone in setting the direction for the band. That internal dynamic prevailed until 1986’s Dirty Work, when friction arose upon Keef asserting himself again (a rapprochement arrived three years later with Steel Wheels).
The practical reality of the Stones’ financial status in their homeland at the time necessitated the Goats Head Soup sessions taking place in various locations, in this case, Jamaica, the United States and the United Kingdom. Although such circumstances, often antithetical to formulating a work of discernible continuity, did not appreciably afflict the previous effort of the band, this 1973 project does not radiate the purpose of its predecessor.
In augmenting the core band, the standard cadre of Rolling Stones collaborators–saxophonist Bobby Keys, organist Billy Preston, and pianists Nicky Hopkins and Ian Stewart–only serves to highlight the lack of musicianly bonding (adding to which is bassist Bill Wyman’s appearance on only three cuts).
The noticeable lack of musicianly chemistry correlates to the absence of material with much substance on Goats Head Soup. There is no truly great composition here, certainly nothing so exceptional as “Street Fighting Man” or “No Expectations” from the similarly disjointed Beggars’ Banquet, where the rediscovery of roots more than compensated.
The Jagger/Richards’ originals betray a lack of focus and sustained concentration. For instance, “Winter” is festooned with an elegant string arrangement, but, at the heart, it pales next to the even more graceful “Moonlight Mile” with its orchestration closing 1971’s Sticky Fingers. “Silver Train” at least superficially hearkens to the Stones’ roots in the blues, but it too sounds more like self-conscious craft than creative inspiration.
And it’s not saying much to state “Star Star” is superior to “It’s Only Rock n’ Roll” in its retooling of Chuck Berry licks. But it also rehashes the derisive, misogynist attitude Jagger and Richards exhibited in earlier material such as “19th Nervous Breakdown” and “Under My Thumb.”
The shortfall in the compositions may explain the corresponding lack of intense performances. The band simply wasn’t sufficiently moved to sing and play its best. Furthering this abiding sense of anonymity is the audio quality of the final mix: the absence of much depth only exacerbates the illusory distance between the band and its listeners.
All that said, this eleventh Rolling Stones LP (thirteenth in the States) is certainly superior to many such as Undercover that followed over the next decade. To be fair though, even when by the mid-nineties the band had honed its recording/touring operations to well-oiled perfection, successive albums varied widely in style, not to mention quality.
Some might say the level of excellence or lack thereof depended on whether it was Jagger or Richards who held sway. For instance, compare and contrast (respectively) 1997’s Bridges to Babylon with Voodoo Lounge three years prior. The Rolling Stones’ overall discography ultimately reads like so many of their albums, distinctly memorable entries (Some Girls) juxtaposed with the mundane (Tattoo You).
With fifty years of retrospect, it’s quite clear Goats Head Soup resides somewhere in that middle ground. The late rock and roll writer Lester Bangs may well have summed it up best: ‘prose by pros.’