Keith Richards - Life

I know I'm about a billion years too late to review this book but as I just finished it yesterday I thought I'd write a little bit on it. My reaction to this book is more a reflection of my internal conflicts that anything Keith Richards has written. On the one hand I want my rock n' roll outlaws, the men and women who push the extremes of behaviour and are the living embodiment of the dangerous edge of society. On the other hand, when you read about their exploits, the reality of what that actually entails can be confronting.

On a certain level, I related to Keith, from his days living poor in Dartford but where the ambition and obsession with music gives way to abusive relationships, violence and drugs it can undermine the romance of the rock n' roll mystique. While it's thrilling to read about Keith's contribution to writing some of the best-known songs in rock, once his life degenerates into abusive relationships, violence and drugs, it’s far less interesting. But what binds the book together is Keith’s devotion to music and that lays the corner stone of this memoir. Unfortunately, his disregard for many and often violent or poor behaviour shows a petty thug taking the shine off the myth (many of which are purposely shattered here).

Much of Keith’s tenure during the Stones height was as a high functioning drug addict and as such I would question some of his assessments in the book. For example, he writes how angry he was that once he got clean, Mick Jagger didn’t want to relinquish control of the direction of the band. Anyone who has had any dealings with people addicted to heroin knows that they can be less than dependable so I think if Jagger had steered the band for 10-15 years while Keith roamed the world on dope, it wouldn’t be surprising that he was reluctant to cede control. Sure, this is pure speculation but it’d be interesting to hear Jagger’s side of the story. There’s a number of points where Richards is angry or defiant in the face of pretty reasonable reactions.

Much is made of the relationship between these two men and as Richards points out, they are brothers rather than friends. Brothers can fight, be mean and spiteful to one another but still have a bind of loyalty and love where friendships often cannot handle such things. This is a good thing as Keith says a lot of less than complimentary things about Mick here. For example, his assessment of the Jagger solo albums is both brutal and hilarious making Mick sound like a limelight hungry egotist. Having heard those records I’d say that he’s pretty spot on here. Richards doesn’t pull any punches and it pays not to get on his bad side. Bill Wyman is conspicuous by his absence and most references to him are derogatory or dismissive.

The most perverse thing about the book is the sheer decadence of their lifestyle. No doubt the Stones were screwed out of loyalties in their time but the level of wealth here is almost comprehensible. When things got bad, Richards would often flee to Tangiers, New York, France, Jamaica as if it were like driving twenty miles up the road. While hanging out with Burroughs, Ginsberg and other cultural icons isn’t enough, the amount of money being thrown around plays against Richards street urchin pirate persona. There is no doubt that Keith (and the band) were unfairly targeted by the police for what they represented more than their actual crimes but Richards certainly didn’t do himself any favours. No doubt the cops were well out of order but when you’re under such scrutiny does it pay to travel with unlicensed guns or have an ounce of dope in your hotel room? Time and time again, his money, expensive lawyers and connections save Richards and if I had such resources I’d use them too. I’m sure it’s much easier to be a reckless thug when you’ve got millions of dollars to bail you out.

Now, I read this book as a latecomer to the Rolling Stones. Sure I knew all the hits from when I was a kid but when I seriously started reading and listening to music in the 80’s, the majority of the mainstream press talked about the glory days of the Beatles, the Stones and Dylan and how they would never be surpassed. As a teenager I railed against this rampant nostalgia and actively didn’t listen to these artists for a number of years. As such, it’s only in the last ten years that I’ve paid any serious attention to the Stones. As such, I doubt my reaction to book is a wrapped up in thirty years of loving devotion to the band. Is it a good read? Definitely but while Richards loves his wife and kids and at times, comes across as a decent bloke, the ultimate reaction to this book is that it’s the story of a pretty sketchy character. I’m not sure if that was what he was going for but for what it’s worth, when Richards focuses on the music, that’s when the book really comes alive.

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Life

I’m currently reading Keith Richards autobiography Life and good ol’ Keef has a nice turn of phrase and a frankness about his misadventures which is both entertaining and refreshingly candid for this type of memoir (the very best of which I would argue is Motley Crue: The Dirt – you may doubt this but it is seriously the most entertaining read about a band ever).

What strikes me most is Keith’s tales of growing up poor in Dartford. My parents, of a similarly impoverished background, grew up on the streets of Stoke-on-Trent and the stories they’ve told me of growing up sound vaguely similar to Keith’s (minus the dead hobo). Undoubtedly times were hard and kids up to mischief or trying to make a bob had a freedom that children growing up today (in weathly Western countries at least) could never have.

Reading Life, I get this weird sense of nostalgia for a culture when Keith Richards was seen as one of the most dangerous men in the world and just wonder whether we’ll ever see anyone like him again. Maybe that’s impossible because he was riding the wave of 60’s rock n’ roll but those childhood misadventures and hardship made Keith to some extent - even his teeth were a result of the childhood fear the NHS gave him of dentists. I’m not saying we should impoverish and terrorise children but I wonder if the hard men of rock, those that bring danger and mystery to the equation are a dying breed. Most likely, we’ll see a new type of rock n’ roll thug but I just don’t want to live in a world of Nickelbacks, I want rock music with soul, wit and danger. I want to feel that excitement and fear again…

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