Tuesday, June 15, 2004
You Can't Always Get What You Want
"You Can't Always Get What You Want" has to be one of the greatest songs ever. I mean, you have the chorus, the French horn, the acoustic, the piano, "At her feet was... a footloose man." Just... perfect, pretty much. And now it's being used in a goddamn Coke commercial.
So who do I blame for this?
Look at the Stones. You basically have the Glimmer Twins—Mick and Keith—and you have Charlie. Now Charlie is one of the coolest bastards ever. He's almost too cool for school, more worried about his jazz, his antiques, and getting those goddamn gofers off his English manor, because they're destroying the rose bushes, and dammit if he's got the duke and duchess coming over in a few hours. Anyway, then you have Keith, who is perhaps the coolest MFer ever. I mean, hands down, it needs no explanation.
This leaves Mick. I don't blame the Stones, I blame Mick. He's the one who went to the London School of Economics, the one who was knighted. The problem with Mick is, he stopped worrying about being a sexy beast a long time ago. He used to be all about sequined jumpsuits open down to the navel, taking naked pictures of Marianne Faithfull, and riding giant inflatable penises onstage. Now, it's all Coke commercials and other business deals, and he's stuffed his giant inflatable penises in the closet, right behind the board games. What happened Mick? You were the street fightin' man, the inflatable cock rider.
Hey, you want to sell "Start Me Up" to Microsoft? By all means; take "Harlem Shuffle" and half of She's the Boss too. Sell "Suck On The Jugular" to Checkers for all I care. But "You Can't Always Get What You Want?" Don't we own that somehow? Can't we keep that sacred? I'm sure he slipped it in under Keith's radar, like "Hey Keith, boy Machester United's playing for shite, remember all that coke in the '70s, yeah, I sold one of our greatest songs to Coke, I mean it was about coke, so anyway, check's in the mail, ta-ta."
I miss the inflatable cock, Mick.
So who do I blame for this?
Look at the Stones. You basically have the Glimmer Twins—Mick and Keith—and you have Charlie. Now Charlie is one of the coolest bastards ever. He's almost too cool for school, more worried about his jazz, his antiques, and getting those goddamn gofers off his English manor, because they're destroying the rose bushes, and dammit if he's got the duke and duchess coming over in a few hours. Anyway, then you have Keith, who is perhaps the coolest MFer ever. I mean, hands down, it needs no explanation.
This leaves Mick. I don't blame the Stones, I blame Mick. He's the one who went to the London School of Economics, the one who was knighted. The problem with Mick is, he stopped worrying about being a sexy beast a long time ago. He used to be all about sequined jumpsuits open down to the navel, taking naked pictures of Marianne Faithfull, and riding giant inflatable penises onstage. Now, it's all Coke commercials and other business deals, and he's stuffed his giant inflatable penises in the closet, right behind the board games. What happened Mick? You were the street fightin' man, the inflatable cock rider.
Hey, you want to sell "Start Me Up" to Microsoft? By all means; take "Harlem Shuffle" and half of She's the Boss too. Sell "Suck On The Jugular" to Checkers for all I care. But "You Can't Always Get What You Want?" Don't we own that somehow? Can't we keep that sacred? I'm sure he slipped it in under Keith's radar, like "Hey Keith, boy Machester United's playing for shite, remember all that coke in the '70s, yeah, I sold one of our greatest songs to Coke, I mean it was about coke, so anyway, check's in the mail, ta-ta."
I miss the inflatable cock, Mick.
