The penultimate album of 2021 - Rolling Stones Biggest Hits volume 2


Tomorrow has its own album, like every other holiday, so tonight is the last album of 2021. I think we can all agree that while not particularly great, it was a tangibly better year than 2020 (if you squint just right). So, even though i know i'm going to regret it, we're spinning the second volume of greatest hits by the Rolling Stones. Quick glance at the track list... yes, these are exactly all of my favorite Rolling Stones songs, what the hell did they publish for the first volume? But more important, will i hate the experience of actually listening to it as much as i hate every actual Rolling Stones album? 

I don't know if I just have really fresh ears, or if it's a legitimate fluke, but Paint It Black sounds lovely; exactly as i expect it to sound. Oh good, pure misery ensues after that. First, left and right channels are not the same volume. Trust me, i flipped my headphones around at least 4 times across Side A, the stereo channels are definitely normalized to different levels. 

As is always the case, this thing is pristine without any surface noise at all (because nobody enjoys repeatedly listening to Rolling Stones on vinyl). It's not just one thing though, it's a cornucopia of terrible things. It's like pouring chocolate milk on your Lucky Charms and washing it down with orange juice. One song will have drum and bass both panned hard left then the next will keep the drums there but pan the bass hard right. Mick Jagger might assault you from anywhere in the stereo field. Random acoustic instruments that couldn't possibly be run through a fuzz pedal sound like they were run through two daisy-chained fuzz pedals. Sometimes there's reverb, sometimes it disappears. Some tracks are super muddy, some tracks sound like there are brillo pads between the headphones and my ear drums. 

But Bottle you pointlessly opine, try listening through speakers instead. Har har har i retort, that's even worse. I wish i was making it up, i want so badly to be wrong, i want to enjoy the truly wonderful songs and wackadoodle arrangements, but what netherworld of grotesqueness still-birthed the audio circuitry that a guy in an ill-fitting tweed jacket sold to the Rolling Stones, and who let them produce their own music on it? Was there a board room meeting where everyone agreed to secretly steal the masters in the middle of the night and send any potential radio single to a professional? 

As i've said before, the playing is incredible, i love their songs, i love WHAT they created, but as for actually listening to it pressed into molten polyvinyl chloride i'd rather just stick my head into the pressing machine. I can't have the only terrible copies on Earth, can i? Surely someone has experienced this specific phenomenon but felt afraid to say anything. Regardless, it's time for Side B. 

Honky Tonk Women, now with vuvuzela choir! Dandelion don't tell no lies, this is lopsided agony; a perfectly lovely song in my right ear and absolute Muppet Show cacophony in my left ear. I adore 2000 Light Years From Home, but Jagger's panned full left again and i desperately want to turn around and punch him in the face. Oh gawd, Have You Seen Your Mother... is ghastly. You know how those old warped VHS uploads to youtube sound? It's like that but in a racquetball court with all the squeaking shoes and embarrassment. No, Street Fighting Man doesn't finish on a high note, it sounds like you're trying to listen to it on a cheap boom box while some inconsiderate jerk bangs on metal garbage cans down the alley. 


I mean, it already had a couple strikes against it. Lopping off all 4 corners of the jacket and inner sleeve is suuuuper annoying, and it's not even an actual application for joining the fan club. Enjoy this collection of Rolling Stones songs, but we're not really even sure anyone would want to be in their fan club. We're not opposed to creating one, i guess, but we definitely aren't going to waste all that money on the off chance you don't think this sounds like it was recorded into an obsolete dictaphone. 

Sayonara 2021, feel free to let the door hit you harder than necessary on the way out. See you tomorrow night for our annual Mastodon around the sun athon. I think the space monster's gonna finally wake up and eat us next year.

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