Rolling Stones "Beggars Banquet" [1968]

Aaaaaaand then the serious narcotics set in. Prior to the release of "Beggars Banquet," the Rolling Stones existed as any other gang of unwashed limeys who did a face-plant every time they tried to copy the Beatles (which was often). But now the endless vamp repetition and slovenly performance of unmistakable smackheadedness marks a new era in Stones lore -- that of entitled, feckless junkies so mean-spirited they make John Lennon look like Bob Hope. Keith Richards has already begun to unravel as a guitar player, especially as a soloist, and one gets the impression he's found himself playing country licks quite by accident, as if the required mojo to play rock temporarily left him on his last nod and his limo's lost somewhere outside Nashville. Brian Jones is really out there for this record -- apparently flying around on his spaceship, because he barely shows up in the studio for any of this. Of course, Charlie Watts and Bill Wyman are too amateur to even pretend they're not still trying to play like the Beatles, and Nicky Hopkins is forced to pick up all the chords the rest of the guys are too stoned to find. But on "Beggars Banquet," it's Mick Jagger who's really transformed -- from a misogynistic pub barker to a full-blown Satanistic rock star and underage groupie rapist... when he isn't faking Delta Blues singing so brazenly you can hear the brown shoe polish on his face. He should have been slapped to his senses right about this time, but who was going to do it? Hendrix and Morrison were even more fucked up than he was, and Dylan was just as lost on the country backroads as Richards.