'cause they're bangin' like Charlie Watts"
--John Hiatt, "Slow Turning"
Summer 1964: It only took two drum beats--right before a typical Rolling Stones lyric, "I know you find it hard to reason with me"--from Charlie Watts on the Stones' "Tell Me (You're Coming Back)" and I was hooked. It was one of those rare instances where I was caught up in the phenomenon of a new band taking off, accelerating. The Stones, England's newest attitude makers, were unknown to me before then.
In retrospect, "Tell Me" wasn't a very good song or a great record. But Watts' tom tom shots were the highlight; by the end, it sounded like he was bashing a door down and I could scarcely drag myself away from the radio. Our family (sans Dad, I think) had just pulled into the driveway of our friends the Monte family, who had two soft spoken young daughters while we had sweet Margo and those boisterous boys, Joey and J.J. After "Tell Me" finished on the radio, I remember the DJ hyping the Stones, the latest storm of the British Invasion to strike. Finally exiting the car, I made it inside for the visit--but preoccupied, as my emerging rock'n'roll world was starting to turn maniacal. I just had to have the record, so I bugged mom for it (since I was nine, I wasn't purchasing my own stuff yet). Who knew that this band had much more in store?
In fact, the answer was on the flip side of the single: Willie Dixon's "I Just Want to Make Love to You," a careening, frantic version that might have set the stage for '60s protopunk like the Shadows of Knight, the Seeds, the Castaways.
The Stones' most momentous achievement was that their rough-edged sound kept getting sharper without losing its visceral wallop and it was built around Charlie Watts (1941-2021). His drumming style avoided anything superficial--someone on YouTube posted, "any drummer that has more drums than Charlie has too many"--and he performed with swing, grace and power. We're all missing this gentleman and superb player, who died August 24th.
Some Stones high points, all with Watts as the foundation of what I'd call perfect grooves:
"Around and Around" (from 12 x 5, 1964): Among the greatest Chuck Berry covers, with Watts defining the word relentless.
"Get Off My Cloud" (from December's Children [and everybody's], 1965): Straight rock, simple and so effective.
"19th Nervous Breakdown" (1966 single): Watts' melodic yet throbbing tom toms and his propulsive ride cymbal work are attention grabbing right away. Mick Jagger's absurdist lyrics chronicle cover everything from a lack of empathy to downers and sealing wax, while Keith Richards' Bo Diddley guitar runs at the end bring it home. If this was inspired by Eddie Cochran's "Nervous Breakdown," the result is completely realized. And that fuzzy, four-note, bizarre guitar figure from Keith--coming after Mick sings, "you better stop/look around"--is something straight off a blooper reel. That lampooning sound ought to be used when a game show contestant gives an incorrect answer, or every time deceitful Florida Governor Ron DeSantis opens his mouth.
"Paint It, Black" (from Aftermath, 1966): I'll never understand why the title includes a comma but I recognize an early Stones masterpiece when I hear one. Featuring ominous sitar from Brian Jones and smashing toms and cymbals from Charlie, the whole thing picks up as Jagger shouts, "I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky."
"Under My Thumb" (Aftermath, 1966): When British musicians Eric Clapton and members of the Stones supported Howlin' Wolf on London Sessions (released in 1971), blues purists wondered if the drummer on the project could pull off a real blues shuffle. I think it was Greil Marcus who wrote that Charlie Watts does an "elegant shuffle." It's the kind of nuanced drum track he provided on "Under My Thumb" as well, not to mention the first part of 1971's "Can't You Hear Me Knocking."
"Street Fighting Man" (from Beggars Banquet, 1968): An incredible record with Jagger's most political lyrics, behind a blasting drum intro that was said to have been recorded on a kids snare drum; bassist Bill Wyman anchors a huge bottom end.
"Jigsaw Puzzle" (from Beggars Banquet, 1968): The greatest Stones track missing from the radio. An excuse that "it's too long" doesn't work; "You Can't Always Get What You Want" is longer. "Jigsaw Puzzle" builds and builds, and Brian Jones' atmospheric lines on recorder gives the song an eerie edge, while Watts doesn't quit.
Exile on Main St.? Practically every bit of this 1972 epic album, especially the brilliant ballad "Let It Loose," "Rocks Off," "Down the Line" (which turns from a cliche to seismic), "Tumbling Dice," "Stop Breaking Down" and the riotous "Rip This Joint." I must confess that I never recognize "Turd on the Run," though.
"Just My Imagination" from Some Girls (1978): Here, the band redefined a Temptations hit with an expertise that eluded them previously (on "Ain't Too Proud to Beg," and an awful version of "My Girl") by changing the tempo while Charlie leads the surge. Additionally, he received an extraordinary drum sound from the recording engineers on the last Rolling Stones LP that truly captivated me.
"She's So Cold" from Emotional Rescue (1980): Watts' kinetic style also makes exemplary use of the china cymbal while Ron Wood and Keith add country-ish guitar licks.
And that's only the tip of the iceberg where the Watts/Stones mastery is concerned. I still love the end of the fiery "Little Queenie" on Get Yer Ya-Yas Out! (1970), where Mick seeks agreement from the Madison Square Garden crowd: "Charlie's good tonight, ineee."
Charlie Watts was a towering contributor to some of rock'n'roll's greatest moments and he's the pulse--or, way, way up there in terms of impact--of my life's soundtrack, too. The two are inseparable.