1969.

Abstract

Fifty years ago I was given my first Rolling Stones record by a cousin five years my senior: the newly released single Honky Tonk Women. In effect I was too young for it. I couldn't make heads or tails of the lyrics barely intelligible for me, and even if I had, my perception of bar maids at that time was at best vague. Even the cover did not look exactly appealing: a dark bar scene with two tarted-up women, a bar-keeper and four other sinister male figures: one sailor, one policeman, and two gentlemen in suits – all of them having astonishingly long hair. What immediately got me, however, was that compelling beat. After a short intro on cow bells (!) a mighty drum beat fell in and made me move involuntarily. Then all hell broke loose. This was a completely unanticipated physical experience for a boy whose most daring excursion into rhythm until then had probably been Tom Jones's Help Yourself.