The moment Keith Richards realised he’d finally made it as a guitarist
Making it as a musician and asserting yourself as a guitarist of note are two different things. Many axemen have risen to the top of the so-called musical pyramid and found critical and commercial success for their general efforts but aren’t recognised for their work on the fretboard. Accordingly, those who have managed to achieve both stand out in the history books. One of these is Keith Richards.
Simply put, without Richards, The Rolling Stones would not have risen to become the hell-raising counterpart to The Beatles when the British invasion was in full swing. Blues purists who looked to the work of their heroes Chuck Berry, Muddy Waters and other genre pioneers put a distinctly British spin on the American formula, making good on the swaggering good times that such innovators instituted.
Richards didn’t only instil a strong hit of the blues within the potpourri of The Rolling Stones either. A masterful guitarist famed for his distinctive fingerstyle and an ardent follower of the traditional approach of Flamenco, he stood out from the mass of notable players that his era produced due to his conflation of opposites. While his detractors, such as Deep Purple’s Ritchie Blackmore, might claim his band’s work is nothing more than a watered-down rendering of the gilded blues greats, his approach is as unique as they come, with his highlights, whether it be ‘Paint it Black’ or ‘Gimme Shelter’ resoundingly confirming this.
Like every guitarist of worth, he looked to his influences for stimulation and cherrypicked, putting their efforts through the great blender of his own character, creating something fresh. Furthermore, while many of Richards’ efforts are deeply ensconced in the world of the blues and R&B, he has also successfully tried his hand at other genres removed from them, including acid rock, reggae and traditional folk. That is another crucial signifier of a guitarist who has genuinely made it: moving through different styles without losing sight of their core values.
As is well known, Richards is a complex character. A man who is fearless of critically appraising the efforts of his bandmates and the work of others, he has also turned this purposeful outlook on himself on occasion and honestly critiqued what he believes are personal and artistic pitfalls. This also means that it took him nearly 20 years of worldwide success to finally realise he had actually made it as a guitarist. Following this moment, he could then comfortably stand up and be counted next to the greats that first galvanised him as an outward-looking youth growing up in the often-forgotten London extremity of Dartford, a place far removed from the Mississippis and Chicagos that produced the sound he’s always held dear.
The penny dropped for Keith Richards in 1981, when The Rolling Stones played with one of their ultimate influences, Waters, at Chicago’s Checkerboard Lounge, which went on to be the live album and concert film Live at the Checkerboard Lounge, Chicago 1981. This was a life-affirming moment for the entire band, as The Best of Muddy Waters is one of the albums they credit with leading to their formation in 1962 and crystallising the partnership between Richards and frontman Mick Jagger.
Looking back on visiting the birthplace of the blues, Mississippi, and later playing with Waters, Richards recalled in his memoir Life: “We were in Mississippi. We’d been playing this music, and it had all been very respectful, but then we were actually there sniffing it. You want to be a blues player, the next minute you fucking well are and you’re stuck right amongst them, and there’s Muddy Waters standing next to you.”
The guitarist gleefully added: “It happens so fast you really can’t register all of the impressions that are coming at you… It’s one thing to play a Muddy Waters song. It’s another thing to play with him.”
Despite playing with his hero, it seems strange that Richards had no tangible inkling of his brilliance before that moment. For years at that point, he’d already attracted legions of devotees and fellow blues fanatics to his cause. Yet, looking past his caricature, this fusion of humility and drive, regardless of his most notorious antics, is a blend that often pushes musicians to such lofty heights. They refuse to stand still.