If you buy into the historical (and let’s face it, hysterical) tropes that surround The Rolling Stones Their Satanic Majesties Request, you would literally first get wrong the album’s title playing off Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. But we’ll get to that later.
In 1967, the Stones were a fractious and precarious pyramid of personalities. They’d released Between the Buttons in January and from the visual on the front cover, the group – Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Brian Jones, Bill Wyman, and Charlie Watts — were looking tired. Jones was on the edge of just barely keeping it together and ahead would be the obligatory run to fight the establishment, drug busts, a calamitous European tour, and in the middle of all this, the commitment for their follow-up album.
Jagger had already sat at the sessions for The Beatles recording of “Baby You’re a Rich Man” on May 11 at Olympic Sound Studios in London. More than aware that their musical frenemies were in the final stages of Sgt. Pepper, Jagger must have sensed the huge repercussions the album would have once it was officially dropped on May 26.
Richards was also aware of their shared ambitions and was later quoted that he didn’t see the Stones playing catch-up or emulating their ‘rivals.’ “I never listened any more to the Beatles than to anyone else in those days when we were working. It’s probably more down to the fact that we were going through the same things.”
In fact, Lennon and McCartney contributed to the Satanic sessions, singing backing vocals on the single “We Love You,” the sardonic answer back to the drug busts and anti-establishment mindset that was proving stressful within the Stones camp after three jury trials.
It’s difficult to untangle the behind-the-scene-legalities and creative process during this time period. As the group struggled to keep their meetings productive, it infected the band’s output. While they could record “She’s A Rainbow” with its full-force bombastic chorus, it was framed by a tinkly piano riff, shaky percussion, and a tra-la-la-la coda slammed together with guitar feedback. Hardly a hit in the making.
The chief instigator and supporter for the band, Andrew Loog Oldham, had skipped out as the drug trials were heating up, leaving the band to produce the album themselves, with engineer Glyn Johns behind the console. However, the fractious nature of the unit would see Jones accepting an invite to play saxophone on The Beatles’ “You Know My Name (Look Up the Number)” at EMI Studios on June 8 and then fly out a week later to attend the Monterey Pop Festival in California.
After the release of Sgt. Pepper had created a pop culture detonation, the band televised the anthem “All You Need is Love” on the Our World global broadcast on June 25, with Jagger clearly visible during the telecast. The Stones had not completely abandoned recording, with continuing sessions for the flowery vocals for “Dandelion,” the ringing guitars of “Citadel” and the non-album track “We Love You.”
The end of June 1967 found Jagger, Richards, and art gallery dealer Robert Fraser all found guilty of various indiscretions, jailed for a brief time, and then released on appeal. Stemming from an anti-establishment editorial in The Times (“Who Breaks a Butterfly on a Wheel?” in defense of the band’s alleged hedonism), it appeared the tide was starting to turn in the Stones’s favor.
Still, the frequent interruptions for recording were so egregious, that bassist Wyman showed up for a canceled session and decided to have Johns record his song “In Another Land” with help from Small Faces Steve Marriott and Ronnie Lane, who were in the next studio. The tremolo effect on his voice was added “’cause I was really uptight about my singing,” he noted later. The song was given the approval from Jagger and Richards for inclusion and was the album’s first single.
The absenteeism continued into July as Jones went into rehab, the compilation Flowers was released in the U.S., and music videos were shot for “Dandelion” and “We Love You.” The latter was a mash-up of confusing art house filmmaking representing the drug trials, with a pixie-hair Marianne Faithfull and in-studio footage of the band. Jones’ appearances are visually shocking and only further emphasized his deteriorating physical condition.
July also marked the finality of the Jagger/Richards drug bust. Richards’ conviction was overturned, Jagger’s was upheld, but sentencing was squashed. Fraser pleaded guilty to charges of possession of heroin and was sentenced to six months in prison. Fraser was never able to shake off his addictions and died from AIDS in January 1986.
August would prove to be another watershed moment, albeit only a fraction of conducive work was being spent in the studio. At the behest of The Beatles, Jagger and Faithfull joined them for the ill-fated retreat with the Maharishi in Bangor, Wales. It was there that everyone was informed of the death of Brian Epstein. Reeling from this news and throwing caution to the wind, the band flew to New York for the Michael Cooper photoshoot for the cover.
Without Oldham at the helm, the band was finally ready to jettison him as manager and ineffectual producer. Although he’d been an indispensable cog in the wheel since their earliest days, by late ‘67, they’d grown apart both in vision and tolerance of attitude. Oldham just wasn’t what they desperately needed: a firm hand in the control room and an ear for the sound they required.
In the two-month window prior to the album’s release, Jones was found guilty of cannabis possession and sentenced to a year in prison and fined (he served exactly one day). After Satanic’s release, he headed back into rehab after being found unconscious from an overdose of alcohol and prescription medication.
The Stones finished their recording sessions in October, including the psychedelic “The Lantern.” The opener, “Sing This All Together,” is clearly an attempt to recreate “All You Need is Love” but suffers from a discordant, tinny backing. Its instrumental sister track, “Sing This All Together (See What Happens),” flies off in disharmonic directions, reminiscent of an elementary classroom unsuccessfully working out a school play ensemble. Clocking in at 8:34, (the hidden track “Cosmic Christmas” starts at 7:54), it’s the second-longest (behind 1966’s “Goin’ Home”) and the weirdest song the Stones would commit to vinyl.
“2000 Man” is nothing if not a harbinger of where they were headed, with its country twang and acoustic accompaniment. It would have been a natural fit on 1968’s Beggar’s Banquet. Jones’ deft work on the electric dulcimer lifted “Gomper” past the cut-and-paste comparison to George Harrison’s “Within You Without You.” And “2000 Light Years From Home” while firmly entrenched with Mellotron vibes and dark bass riffs, eventually found its way into the Stones setlist during the Steel Wheels/Urban Jungle 1989–1990 world tour and at their 2013 appearance at the Glastonbury Festival. The album’s closer “On With the Show” is a nice little Kinks-style wrap-up and one of the few humorous and more complete-sounding songs on the album.
Contrary to the myths surrounding its title, Their Satanic Majesties Request is a play off the wording “Her Britannic Majesty requests and requires” that’s shown on British passports. However, with regards to Sgt. Pepper, it benefitted from being the first Stones album to be released as identical versions in the UK and U.S.
With outstanding and complicated work from pianist Nicky Hopkins, the LP was released on December 8, 1967. While it failed on many levels, both in terms of critical drubbings from the press – who viewed it as a blatant rip-off of Sgt. Pepper and piled on the band for its terrible production sound – it can be argued that this was Brian Jones at his musical best.
Historically, having both Jagger and Richards eviscerated its contents (save for “She’s A Rainbow” and the above-mentioned “2000 Light Years From Home”), Jones, even while losing status and patience from the Glimmer Twins, stepped up with his instrumental contributions: from Mellotron, saxophone, electric dulcimer, vibraphone, mouth harp, flute, recorder and harp, his fingerprints are over every inch of the album. It could have been a prejudiced blow to the acknowledged leaders in not giving credit to Jones when his personal demons and insecurities only brought on more strife within the band. In hindsight, the flags had already been raised and the Stones would never again stray too far from their roots. Sadly, Jones would not live long enough to see a resurgence of his work be given the praise it deserves.
-Amy Hughes
Fair use image of Their Satanic Majesties Request
My favorite Stones album. So what if they borrowed ideas from the Beatles and Kinks? What a great time for music and creativity. Troubled times and constraints can help create great art.
Thanks for the details. Weird that after all this time I didn’t know that Lennon and McCartney sang on one of the tracks. And Jagger on “Rich Man.” Love it.
A fair asessment. I bought the album on release, played it once and next day sold it to a second-hand record store.
A very interesting piece on an intriguing album.