Keith Richards Life is the quintessential rock ‘n’ roll tale

I wouldn’t consider myself a huge Rolling Stones fan, but when the opportunity to read a memoir by guitarist Keith Richards presented itself, my interest was sufficient to make it a must read.

Now, I must qualify the above. I probably own 10 Stones albums, which is more than I can say about some bands about which my fanaticism is rather rabid. The band’s output is to credit for that, of course; it’s easy to amass a sizeable collection when a group has 30-plus albums to its name (and a solid dozen that are classics). But I’ve never seen the band in concert, never gone out of my way to learn about the band beyond what was available in general pop culture and before now didn’t think the band had made a decent album since 1981′s Tattoo You.

But Richards may well be the living, breathing flesh-and-bone embodiment of rock ‘n’ roll, and a memoir that promises this on the inside flap – “This is the life. Believe it or not, I haven’t forgotten any of it” – is pretty much required reading for a rock fan.

Richards doesn’t disappoint with Life. This may be the most candid, honest rock memoir ever written. Yes, Richards engages in the self-mythologizing endemic of the form. But it almost feels as if he’s pulling punches in that regard. Pulling out every reference to partying, drinking, drugging, sex and general debauchery would leave this 547 page book a spindly pamphlet, but one suspects there is significantly more to catalog.

The most surprising thing, however, is how brutally forthright he is. Original Stones guitarist Brian Jones seems to have left no one lamenting his early death, but Richards is downright scathing in his assessment. In his last mention of Jones, ruminating on his death, he refers to him as a “whining son of a bitch.” He also does nothing to soften his view toward singer Mick Jagger. Though he talks of him as a brother that he would stand up for against anyone, he also takes any chance he gets to knock Jagger.

What is most striking about the book is Richards’ willingness to embrace, analyze and discuss every story and rumor about him and the Stones. Again, I haven’t followed every twist and turn of the band’s story, but it’s difficult to avoid most of these stories. So, when the narrative reaches a famous police bust at Richards’ country estate in the ’70s, then the rumor about Jagger’s then-girlfriend Marianne Faithful and a certain candy bar are addressed head-on (and debunked). Did Keith really have his blood replaced at one point? Did he really fall from a coconut tree? It’s all here.

There are inconsistencies. At one point he discusses his drug use, writing “People think once they’ve got this high, if they take some more they’re going to get a little higher. There’s no such thing. Especially with cocaine. One line of good coke and you should be popped all night.”

Later, taking about the band’s 1975 tour, he writes about how he and Ron Wood would build “hideaways behind the speakers on the stage so that we could have lines between songs. One song, one bump was the rule between Ronnie and me.”

Thing is, amusing though this is, I’m sure Richards believes the first but didn’t yet during that tour. It’s not so much a contradiction as an unannounced lesson learned. That he missed the chance to draw attention to that was surprising given his earlier call of bullshit on himself when discussing his look. “I was never really interested very much in my look, so to speak, although I might be a liar there,” he writes, going on to detail exactly how much interest he had in creating and cultivating what has become a signature style.

The reader isn’t getting the full story here, of course, but it does feel as complete as can be expected. At first, this made me want to read Jagger’s take on the same tales, but I realized they would be expurgated and sanitized. Jagger is a businessman, not an artist. Perhaps a business book about the Stones’ ability to stay relevant for five decades would be more appropriate from the singer. The book I really want to read is the one drummer Charlie Watts might someday write. Watts, the silent rock holding everything together, sitting back there taking in everything. That will be the one to read.

Until then, Life isn’t just the best way to learn about the Rolling Stones. It is the best way to learn about rock ‘n’ roll.