In the pantheon of bad albums by great musicians, few are as shockingly, transcendently awful as the Rolling Stones' "Dirty Work." By all accounts, it's a miracle that the band didn't break up during this time, as tension with the band was of seismic proportions, and the album itself was promptly met with derision.
It's almost inaccurate to call "Dirty Work" a Rolling Stones album, as it's well documented that no one cared about the band at this point. Jagger and Richards were barely speaking to each other, and Charlie Watts was struggling with addiction at the time and barely drummed on the album. The kinetic synergy that defined early classics such as "Let It Bleed" and "Sticky Fingers" is completely absent, giving the album a feel that's excessively slick and hollow, even by 1980s' standards. Even an impressive roster of guests (Jimmy Page, Patti Scialfa, Bobby Womack, Tom Waits, Anton Fig, Jimmy Cliff) couldn't make up for the lack of quality control and the palpable disconnect between the band.
"Dirty Work" actually starts off promisingly with the "One Hit (To the Body)," a brisk, tense rocker that sounds more like an actual Rolling Stones song more than any other track. With its blending of acoustic and electric guitars for the main riff and lively vocal from Jagger, it has many of the signatures of their classic work. While the lyrics portray a doomed romance that just can't end, it's pretty apparent that the song is a veiled dig at Richards, who doesn't even play on the track (Jimmy Page does, and contributes an outstanding solo to boot). Lines such as "Your love is a sweet addiction, I can't clean you out of my veins / It's a lifelong addiction, that has damaged my brain" represent the toxic nature of their relationship at the time, as well as the underlying realization that the two still needed each other creatively. (The 'I can't clean you out of my veins' line may also be in reference to Richards' blood cleansing habit to deal with heroin addiction.)
Beyond the opener, "Dirty Work" is pretty terrible from start to finish; when the best remaining song is a cover of the R & B classic "Harlem Shuffle," it's a pretty grim situation. The rockers such as "Fight," "Hold Back," and "Winning Ugly" all seem to blend into each other, with Jagger screaming the vocals in an unaffected manner amidst some pretty anemic guitar work, a somnambulant rhythm section and a complete lack of melody. Then you have the gruesome reggae cover "Too Rude," with Jagger's borderline offensive Jamaican patois and none of the groove or punch you'd expect from the genre. "Had It With You" and the title song are almost offensive in how lazy they are, especially the former which melodically recycles the much better "Respectable." Of the remaining songs, only Keith's "Sleep Tonight" is borderline tolerable, a bitter kiss off to Mick with some interesting musical textures; it's not great, but it's competent enough, which is saying something.
The album actually does end on a surprisingly touching, sentimental note, as a hidden track pays tribute to the band's longtime keyboardist, Ian Stewart. The loss of Stewart no doubt affected the lack of morale; Stewart had been with the band in 1963 and functioned as somewhat of a father figure for them. The track itself is nothing more than 30 second bit from the blues standard, "Keys to the Highway," but it's a lovely representation of Stewart's skills and a last reminder of what he brought to the band.
Had the Stones been able to channel their anger properly, I think "Dirty Work" could've been one last milestone for them. "One Hit" certainly showed potential, and had the rest of the record been as focused and well written as that one song, it could've been a brutal, dark masterpiece. Unfortunately, the Stones let their petty squabbles get the best of them, resulting in a record whose best use would be as a beer coaster or a frisbee.
