The Rolling Stones
– Emotional Rescue
Emotional Rescue is the sound of the Rolling Stones shaking off the hangover of the ’70s, throwing on a silk shirt, and wandering into the glitzy, suspicious world of early ’80s excess. It’s not their most consistent work, but it is weirdly compelling—part smirk, part swagger, part midlife crisis put to tape. After the grimy triumph of Some Girls, this one is looser, shinier, and far more comfortable dancing under a mirrorball than slugging it out in a dive bar.
Best of…
Jagger is clearly having fun here—sometimes too much. He slips into falsetto, preens like a Studio 54 peacock, and turns self-parody into high performance art. Richards, half-defiant and half-stoned, keeps tossing in the riffs like he’s manning the grill at a barbecue he didn’t want to attend but is starting to enjoy. There’s tension in that dynamic, and it makes the record twitch and glide rather than stomp.
This isn’t the Stones at their peak—but it’s them refusing to be boring. It’s sleazy, funny, and occasionally brilliant. They weren’t reinventing themselves. They were dressing their mess in disco and watching to see who flinched.
Choice Tracks
Emotional Rescue
Jagger’s falsetto is ridiculous and riveting, like Barry Gibb possessed by a paranoid aristocrat. The groove pulses like a neon heartbeat, never quite letting you relax.
Dance (Pt. 1)
Richards and Ronnie Wood dig deep into a sticky funk groove while Jagger riffs like he’s more interested in the beat than the words. It works—maybe because it’s barely trying to.
She’s So Cold
A bratty, minimalist stomp with sneering lyrics and jittery guitars. It’s punkish without pretending to be punk.
Send It to Me
A reggae-tinged romp that shouldn’t work—but kind of does—thanks to its half-drunk charm and Mick’s oddly committed delivery.
Let Me Go
This one clicks like clockwork—tight, cranky, and carried by that classic Stones push-and-pull rhythm section. It’s a late-album gem that doesn’t get enough credit.