“But Aunt B., I Don’t Want to Put on Good Music and Dance Around My Office!”

Tough.

Good lord, people.

Go over, shut your office door, come back around here and press play on these puppies.

“No, I hate old blues. No, don’t make me listen to old blues!”

Look, we can ease into it.

We’ll start with Zeppelin. See, that wasn’t so bad. It was even kind of fun, wasn’t it?

Or the Rolling Stones. You like them, right? I saw your butt wiggling just a little bit.

Okay, now just try a little Blind Willie and then…this.

—

Ha, that reminds me. Last night, the Simpsons was the one where they all go to England and Bart and Lisa do all that candy and it’s like from Trainspotting and Homer and Marge are looking for them and Homer’s all like, “It’s Jimmy Page, England’s premier thief of black American music.”

I don’t think that’s exactly fair, though Zeppelin are big thieves, but the Stones are pretty big thieves, too.

I like this rendition of Morganfield’s “Can’t Be Satisfied,” though, because I think it shows you how the stealing goes around. Here, just to have it, let’s take a listen to Morganfield’s “Can’t Be Satisfied” from the Chess years. This is probably the version the Rolling Stones heard and were covering.

His voice is a little higher, a lot younger, and, to my ear, I think it’s obvious that this is a studio cut.  You get the sense that there’s no audience there.  There’s a little playing around in his delivery, but I think that Morganfield’s real gift was the connection he made with his audience (even on the cuts where his audience is just his band).  To me, when I listen to this cut, I hear a kind of flatness, a lack of spark, even though it’s a fine and fun song.

The Stones’ cut is clearly building off that.  They’ve added more echo and, again, it’s a fun song. I appreciate that they have the good sense to equally pair Mick’s voice with the guitar, almost like a duet.  But, in listening to it, I hear a group that loves a song, not a group that gets what the song is about (though the way Mick delivers the line about his baby jumping and shouting suggests maybe he kind of does get it).

But here’s where it’s interesting.  The Stones’ version came out in 1965.  The second Morganfield version we have here is from 1977.  Which means that Morganfield isn’t just redoing his own song; he’s, in effect, covering a cover of his work.

And he takes his younger self and the Stones to school.  The delivery has a little funk to it.  His voice is deeper and growlier and he’s clearly having a great, great time.  He’s got some back and forth with the band and the whole thing is loose in that way that reminds you of a big old Chevy Caprice–comfortable, tough, and with a back seat big enough for a girl to spread out in…

Heh.

Whoo.

I tell you what, if they could bottle “deep ole Southern man” voice and sell it as some kind of intoxicating liquor, that would be my favorite drink.

Are you dancing yet?