The Rolling Stones - "19th Nervous Breakdown"

Released
UK: February 4/US: February 12, 1966

In 1965, the Rolling Stones hit the No. 1 spot on both the British and American charts with their identity-defining anthemic single, "(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction", establishing the group not only as a major new force in modern pop/rock music, but positioning them to challenge the success of the Beatles as an international phenomenon. The electric blues/Chuck Berry hybrid that the band had developed since their first single in 1963 had morphed itself into a new, hard-hitting rock style that aggressively attacked the banality of modern life, fueled both by a propulsive electric-fuzz riff by guitarist Keith Richards and faintly Dylanesque lyrics of disgust and protest delivered by their increasingly charismatic and controversial singer, Mick Jagger. In short, they were a sensation, and they followed up their triumph with a tough, funny worthy follow-up, "Get Off of My Cloud" before the year’s end. Moreover, the Stones were creating havoc with audiences wherever they performed and were quickly solidifying themselves as international heroes of would-be rebels from masses of fans from their teens to their twenties.

As the new year emerged, the Stones were positioned to push the envelope of their increasingly furious power, as well as their rapidly developing musical and writing skills. Still, nobody could have forecast just how far this group would travel artistically during 1966. Along with the Beatles and Dylan, the band was about to embark on a creative run that was to revolutionize the very boundaries of what popular music could be. During the year they would release four new singles, each one more frenzied and challenging, both instrumentally and lyrically. They would also produce their first completely self-written LP, the groundbreaking Aftermath, which experimented - successfully - in so many different ways that it transformed the world’s vision of them, and rock music in general to a point that could not have been imagined by the year’s end.

It is amazing to think how quickly things developed and changed, looking back at this extraordinary era. The songs kept coming every few months with greater and greater urgency: "19th Nervous Breakdown," "Paint It, Black", "Mother’s Little Helper", and finally the insane rush of "Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby, Standing in the Shadow?" Along with their competitors, who by now were their peers, the Stones pushed rock and roll to the breaking point, painting a portrait of a society going mad at the fringes in the process.

It all began in February, with the release of their new single. For my money, "19th Nervous Breakdown" was the greatest thing the Rolling Stones had produced yet - and it remains one of the most furious and iconoclastic rock songs of all time. In a sense - especially at the time - it seemed to complete a trilogy of hard-rock protest songs that began with "Satisfaction." But there was something new, edgy, and more dangerous about this single. It seemed as if the music itself was going mad, straining to somehow jump completely out of the rock-song mould. It was absolutely exhilarating - and to some people, just downright frightening in its intensity.

Unlike the cocky grooves of "Satisfaction" or "Get Off of My Cloud," "19th Nervous Breakdown is driven by an anxious, edgy jump back and forth between chords by Keith Richards, hot, driving and unstable. Brian Jones counters with a rocking back-and-forth Bo Diddley-type rhythm that grounds the tune in a kind of nervous stasis: everything’s stuck in place, but it’s screaming to get out. Charlie Watts and Bill Wyman enter with such a ferocity that you don’t think the song can build - but it does.

Jagger’s insouciant vocal is delivered to an upper-society girl on whom he looks down disdainfully. It’s a theme that he picked up on 1965’s "Play with Fire," and something he’ll carry with him throughout the year and beyond. One of the glorious things about the Rolling Stones of the 1960s is that they attack decadence, rather than wallowing in it themselves. Mick is angry here, just plain nasty, as he pours out his frustrated spite on the over-privileged object of his derision:

You’re the kind of person
You meet at certain dismal dull affairs
Center of a crowd, talking much too loud
Running up and down the stairs
Well, it seems to me that you have seen
Too much in too few years
And though you’ve tried, you just can’t hide
Your eyes are edged with tears
You better stop, a-look around . . .

As the band breaks, Richards lays down an absolutely screaming, scrawling guitar line that pronounces a guttersnipe’s indignant judgment. It’s beautiful.

Then the refrain starts: "Here it comes, here it comes . . ." Yes, this song is a threat. It rises in pitch and intensity: "Here it comes, here it comes . . ." Then it delivers: "HERE COMES YOUR 19th NERVOUS BREAKDOWN!"

The band floats for a bar or two while Charlie Watts delivers a mean, mean fill to push it into the second verse:

When you were a child, you were treated kind
But you were never brought up right
A-you were always spoiled with a thousand toys
But still you cried all night
Your mother, who neglected you
Owes a million dollars tax
And your father’s still perfecting ways
Of making sealing wax
You better stop, a-look around . . .

Here is a band who is delivering the actual text of what had only been implied in the subtext of Elvis’ sneer in ‘50s rock ‘n’ roll: This culture is filled with over-indulged, shallow, materialistic hypocrites, and you’re all about to get your come-uppance!

After another great ride through the refrain, the group takes off into a bridge section that actually AMPLIFIES the outrage and anger:

Oh, who’s to blame? That girl’s just insane
Well, nothing I do don’t seem to work
It only seems to make matters worse, oh please

As his voice rises in his frustrated rant, Mick eventually just trails away in disgust.

There is an obvious parallel between "19th Nervous Breakdown" and Dylan’s ground-breaking masterpiece of the year before, "Like a Rolling Stone," and I doubt that’s a coincidence. But there’s a difference here, too. While Dylan’s indictment implicitly includes himself and ends on a note of freedom and release, "19th Nervous Breakdown" is a cold slap in the face from pissed-off bunch of punks to would-be hipsters who are really pretenders - stuck eternally in their own self-constructed wheels of delusional pretension. This girl isn’t going to learn anything from this lecture, and the band knows it. These guys aren’t looking for answers - they just want to say "fuck you!"

Interestingly, since the lyrics come so fast and hard, a lot of people have never realized that this is one of the first ‘60s rock songs to explicitly deal with LSD. Yes, even back this far, the Stones were ensconced in the new counter-culture and were (at least artistically) attempting a personal and social transformation. Unfortunately, however, in this case, the old "phony values" make it a lost cause:

You were still in school when you had that fool
Who really messed your mind
And after that you turned your back
On treating people kind

On our first trip
I tried so hard to rearrange your mind
But after while I realized
You were disarranging mine
 You better stop, look around . . .

The message couldn’t be clearer: we’re here to blow away the bullshit, and if you can’t cut it, just beat it. In other words, this is punk rock, folks - and it’s taking no prisoners. That’s right - the Stones were the biggest punks rock had ever seen. And they were smart. They were smarter and cooler than you and everyone you had ever known. That’s why the group was so dangerous: they were intelligent thugs. And they were taking over. So logically speaking, if you bought their records and listened to their music, you were taking over too. Out of the way, lame, straight, fucked-up world! It’s our turn now - and we’re pretty well disgusted with everything you do.

All that’s left to mention is the beautiful ending, where, slowly fading out while repeating the refrain, Bill Wyman brilliantly employs his own "breakdown" on his bass. Beautiful, baby, beautiful . . .