Was This the Best Rolling Stones Album of the 1980s?

Was Keith Richards’ first solo record, Talk is Cheap, the best Rolling Stones album of the 1980s? I certainly thought so when it first came out back in October of 1988, and there is still a good argument to be made on that front 36 years later.

The funny thing, of course, is that Keith would never have done this record in the first place if he had his way.

Hard as it may be to believe now, there was a period there in the mid-to-late 80s where it looked like The Rolling Stones might break up for good. The reasons why have been well-documented over the years, but the short version is that Mick and Keith were not getting on because of their divergent views on the direction of the band. Mick wanted to chase trends to stay relevant in the MTV era; Keith wanted to stay true to the Stones’ roots. But, Mick was also maybe a little bored with the band, and wanted to try his hand at going solo. For Keith, that idea was anathema. The band comes first, or there is no band. When Mick chose to focus on his solo career instead of doing a Stones tour to support their Dirty Work album in 1986, Keith followed suit, and the future of the band seemed to be in jeopardy.

But, out of that discord came a terrific album that gave Keith a much-needed shot in the arm, and highlighted all of his strengths.

To start, Talk is Cheap is a total groove record. All of the songs lock into a groove that is hypnotic, organic, and fun. You can bob your head, stomp your leg, and sway your hips to these tunes. Keith’s love of R&B and the blues is evident here, and It is easy to imagine many of these tracks coming out of a jam session and being honed from there. 

This record also rocks and rolls, as befits a core member of the Stones. Which is to say that Talk is Cheap is more rootsy (and, dare I say, more relevant) than anything the Stones released that entire decade. Don’t get me wrong: the 80s gave us at least one classic Stones album (Tattoo You), one underrated sleeper (Undercover), and one massively overrated record from them (Steel Wheels). But, what all of those efforts have in common is an aggressive professionalism that gives one the impression that the band may have focused more on staying busy than making sure their fans had something fun to listen to. That’s where Talk is Cheap triumphs: it is fun. It sounds looser and boozier than the Stones had sounded in a while – and, it also sounds like Keith is actually enjoying himself. Is it any wonder, then, that Stones fans treated this one like a drink of water after being lost in the desert upon first hearing it?

Also: can we talk about Keith’s band for a minute? He did not just hire a bunch of random session players for a one-off job. Instead, he recruited an all-star team of the best musicians in the business (appropriately named The X-Pensive Winos, by the way), and they became his official band for all of his subsequent solo albums. Led by Keith’s co-producer and second-in-command, drummer Steve Jordan, the Winos features Sarah Dash on backing vocals (she was one-third of the legendary funk/soul group Labelle), multi-instrumentalist Charley Drayton, keyboardist Ivan Neville, saxophonist Bobby Keys (a core member of the Stones touring band for many years), and guitarist Waddy Wachtel, and they have instant, undeniable chemistry throughout Talk is Cheap. Keith’s shaggier, relaxed approach suits them perfectly, and they take to it like…well, like a unit that had already been playing together as long as the Stones had. Throw in a couple of musical guest spots by folks like Chuck Berry’s longtime piano player, Johnnie Johnson, and Parliament-Funkadelic alums Bootsy Collins, Maceo Parker, and Bernie Worrell, and you get an idea of what Keith is up to here.

As for the songs themselves, it is not a surprise that they sound a lot like the Stones. What is surprising is how different they are from the Stones because Mick is not involved. Keith co-wrote everything on Talk is Cheap with Steve Jordan, and having a new (and younger) writing partner results in an album that, in my view, sounds like what the Stones would be if Keith were totally in charge. There are jagged uptempo numbers like “Take it So Hard” (the lead single), “How I Wish,” and “Whip it Up.” There is the obligatory Chuck Berry homage, “I Could Have Stood You Up.” There are mid-tempo shufflers like “Rockawhile.” And there is a surprisingly catchy ballad, “Locked Away.” Most notably, there is Keith’s snide takedown of Mick, “You Don’t Move Me,” which features bon mots like “Why do you think you got no friends / You drove them around the bend.” In all, Talk is Cheap runs a wider gamut of emotional colors than the Stones typically do. It is defiant, bitchy, breezy, vulnerable, and warm. Those last two really stand out here because no one would ever accuse the Stones albums of the ‘80s of being either vulnerable or warm.

Mick’s solo debut may have sold better than Keith’s did (She’s the Boss went Platinum; Talk is Cheap went Gold), but Keith won the PR war. He made people interested in the Stones again because he reminded them that someone in that band could still make an album as good as Talk is Cheap. For a guy who had always put the band first, Keith showed Mick how to do a proper solo album. 

The rest was history. Within a year, Keith and Mick resolved their differences, and the Stones released Steel Wheels, which was hailed as a major return to form and completed their transformation into fine purveyors of polished corporate dad rock. But, by then, we all knew the truth. Mick is the savvy CFO of the band, with a sharp eye for their public image. Keith, on the other hand, is the heart and soul of the Rolling Stones. Talk is Cheap proved that. 

Revisiting the Canon: Best Albums of 1988

As my recent posts have hopefully been pointing out, the 1980s was a banner decade for music – and, 1988 was a particularly noteworthy year in that regard. It was one of those years that was so strong musically that it was impossible for me to pick only five albums to highlight. I had to pick ten, instead. And, I could’ve picked ten completely different albums, and I still would’ve been right. That’s how good 1988 was.

Ergo, some longtime favorites of mine from the year in question. (I should note: these are not presented in order of preference or rank, nor have I done that with the other albums I’ve featured in this series. Ultimately, the order doesn’t matter. You, dear reader, will decide what place these records occupy in your heart.)

It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Public Enemy

This might the toughest hip-hop album I’ve ever heard. The beats are hard, the soundscape of samples is relentless, and Chuck D delivers one of the fiercest vocal performances ever committed to record. I had no idea what to make of this album when it first came out, but repeat listens tuned me into its frequency: this is protest music, and one of the earliest and most visible bridges, in attitude, between rap and punk. Chuck said it best early on this record: “…the power is bold, the rhymes politically cold.” Bring the noise, indeed.

Fisherman’s Blues, The Waterboys

Rock meets folk meets traditional Irish music in a mashup that swerves and swoons and dances a jig or two. One of the things I love most about this album is how far it stands apart from dominant musical trends of the era. Fisherman’s Blues simply does its own thing and exists on its own plane, and transports the listener there. Imagine seeing this band play a gig in the middle of a pub near the Irish coast, and you’ll understand the vibe.

Nothing’s Shocking, Jane’s Addiction

Jane’s Addiction was always a hard band to pin down. Who else did they sound like? Nobody and everybody. They had a little bit of punk in their sound, a little bit of hair metal, a little bit of prog rock, and a little bit of many other things. In retrospect, it’s easy to see that the biggest part of their sound was how much of it inspired countless other bands later on. In other words, Jane’s Addiction was a true original, and theirs was the sound of the future. Nothing’s Shocking remains a bracing testament to that.

Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars, Edie Brickell & New Bohemians

Back in the day, it seemed as if Edie Brickell & Co. sprang onto the scene out of nowhere, and they cast a spell over my crowd in no time flat. They led with one of my favorite singles of the decade, the ubiquitous-at-the-time “What I Am,” which was a great introduction to their kind of hippie-dippy folk rock. This is a beautiful record, brimming over with sincerity, that should not be forgotten.

Vivid, Living Colour

One of the hardest rock albums of the 1980s, full of crunchy riffs, and an astonishingly big sound, considering they did it with only three instruments and a singer. Corey Glover has never been a typical frontman, though: dude has a big sound all his own, and he goes gunning for the stratosphere on every track. Case in point: one of Vivid‘s best-known tracks, “Middle Man.” These funk metal pioneers created the sonic template for countless bands that came after them, and it all started with this album, which remains one of the best debuts of the decade.

Lovesexy, Prince

Prince really did own the 1980s, didn’t he? He released a new album almost annually throughout the decade, most of them were good enough to be considered among the best of their respective years (to say the least), and all of them were wildly influential. Even though Lovesexy was considered one of Prince’s lesser efforts at the time, it still featured one of his most popular Top 10 singles, “Alphabet St.,” and future fan favorites like “Glam Slam” and “Anna Stesia.” Just a year removed from his landmark album, Sign o’ the Times, Prince loosens up a bit here, but sounds just as dynamic as ever.

Life’s Too Good, The Sugarcubes

Long before Björk became a universally shapeshifting polymath, she was the lead singer of the Icelandic alternative band The Sugarcubes. Thanks to her otherworldly vocals, the group made a smashing debut with Life’s Too Good, and set themselves up for worldwide notoriety. It may sound weird to some now hearing her front such a conventional (at least, for her) unit. But, when this album first came out, it was downright shocking, not just because of Björk’s extraordinary voice, but also because there was a band on Earth well-suited enough to support it. This is a legit alternative classic, and, to this day, there is still nothing that sounds even remotely like it.

Traveling Wilburys Vol. 1

What do you get when you form a supergroup with four iconic rock stars and an acclaimed producer? One of the greatest larks in the history of popular music. In the late 1980s, Electric Light Orchestra frontman Jeff Lynne produced albums for George Harrison, Tom Petty, and Roy Orbison. In between, the four of them recruited Bob Dylan and teamed up for this record, a breezy, tongue-in-cheek caper in which they billed themselves as half-brothers from a family of traveling musicians. The vibe is loose, the skill level is high, and the result is an album where all five members get to play to their strengths while having more fun than it sounds like they’ve had in a while.

Talk is Cheap, Keith Richards

Back in the late 1980s, when Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were in the midst of professional feud that threatened to break up The Rolling Stones, Keith went off and finally recorded a solo album of his own (in response to the two solo records that Mick had already done). The result was one of the best de facto Stones albums of the decade, a loose, shaggy affair that revealed Keith to be the true heart of the band. Backed up by a roster of superstar session players (who later became the core of Keith’s solo band, The X-Pensive Winos), Talk is Cheap is heavy on grooves and tasty guitar licks, and captures Keith in a rare moment of really joyful musical carousing.

Slow Turning, John Hiatt

In which John Hiatt finally perfected his sound, after years of toiling as a music industry afterthought (and getting dropped by three record labels). The songs take center stage on Slow Turning, and they are terrific: full of wry humor, catchy melodies, and rowdy roots rock arrangements to fill them out. Hiatt cut this record with his touring band, The Goners, and they are remarkably in sync throughout: they twang and croon like country music pros on the ballads, and rumble like a souped-up 1950s Thunderbird on the uptempo numbers. This is the album where his “Nashville-Memphis fusion,” as Robert Christgau called it, finally hit its peak form.