December's Children (and everybody's) Released: December 4, 1965

History has decreed that The Rolling Stones’ fifth American studio album, December’s Children (and everybody’s) is one of their slightest releases. This tends to ignore the fact that almost the whole record was recorded in just two days in early autumn, 1965.

December's Children (and everybody's) in depth

On Sunday 5th September, the band entered RCA Studios in Hollywood. By that night they’d completed versions of sonny bono and Roddy Jackson’s explosive, distorted, riff-driven She Said Yeah and Chuck Berry’s Talkin’ ‘Bout You, as well as a new Jagger/Richards composition called The Singer Not The Song and two versions Get Off Of My Cloud. That is, by anyone’s reckoning, a pretty good work rate.

The very next day they returned to finish a fantastically downbeat piece of headache pop called Blue Turns To Grey – the only Stones song to ever be a hit for Cliff Richard And The Shadows – an oddly breezy Gotta Get Away and I’m Free, a massive hit 25 years later for The Soup Dragons. Also recorded on that day was Looking Tired, a song destined for the bands’ next album, which luxuriated in the Jesus-people baiting, record-company-infuriating title of Could You Walk On Water? It was, of course, never released under that name.

Ok, so there were downsides. Arthur Alexander’s You Better Move On is a limp stroll through a song that, next to the weapons-grade fire-power of Get Off Of My Cloud or the furious, pre-punk, garage-rock energy of She Said Yeah, sounds incredibly dated, muted, pale even. This, patently, is not the sound that a band wishing to destroy everything in its path should ever wish to make. Muddy Waters’ Look What You’ve Done is a nice enough track, but there’s nothing new added here: it’s a perfunctory, respectful stroll through a song that, like You Better Move On, is already part of the band’s distant past rather than their immediate future.

By the same token, As Tears Go By had already been a hit for Marianne Faithfull in November 1964, while Singer Not The Song eventually collapses in on itself, caught as it is, between looking back to finger-in-the-ear Merseybeat harmonies and forward to fringe-jacket-wearing Byrds’-like jangling folk rock.

Out where things really mattered – in the theatres and cinemas and concert halls – The Stones were making an intense, sensual, powerful racket. Hank Snow’s 1950 hit I’m Moving On – here in a live version – is a full-pelt rave-up, Watts’ and Wyman’s drums and bass lock in tight together, while Jones’ and Richards’ guitars layer sheets of noise, only to jab needling slide guitars through them all.

The other live track, a version of Bobby Troup’s (Get Your Kicks On) Route 66, may be almost entirely free of any sort of identifiable bass at all until a quite astonishing late run, but the fact that these bastards can really play, that they clearly have mastered how to take a crowd right up to the point of teeth-gnashing hysteria then leave them dangling, unable to escape their own delirium even for a second, is obvious to anyone with a working set of ears.

The question is, how do you capture that sort of spectral power when your schedule looks like this? Saturday – gig in Belfast. Sunday and Monday – recording in Los Angeles. Tuesday – flying. Wednesday – gig in The Isle of Man. It’s actually insane.

Listen to I’m Free, during the chorus at 1:30, just after the guitar solo. The song basically falls apart, the tambourine, vocal and backing track all veering away wildly; but, within three or four seconds the band are all back in step with each other. Listen to the way Charlie Watts’ military snare-snaps forever propel the timelessly brilliant Get Off Of My Cloud forward, forward, forward.

There’s no time for another take, get it down, do it now, the cab’s outside with the engine running and we’re all an hour late already. We’ll be doing another one of these in a few months. Come on! Run!