The Guardian Review

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2011/sep/15/superheavy-superheavy-review

SuperHeavy: SuperHeavy – review

Alert! Alert! Mick Jagger has gone reggae again. Incredibly, it could have been a lot worse, says Alexis Petridis
Alexis Petridis
guardian.co.uk, Thursday 15 September 2011 15.29 BST

"You can understand the appeal of SuperHeavy for its participants" … Dave Stewart, Damian Marley, Joss Stone, Mick Jagger and AR Rahman.
Over on the SuperHeavy website, there is a short video of the freshly minted supergroup in the studio. It opens not with their most celebrated member, Mick Jagger, but the youngest, Joss Stone. "Aaaah-yeeeeeaaaah-a-hey-a-YAY," she sings, as is her wont. "What the @#$%& is going on?"
The listener might be forgiven for asking the same thing when confronted with SuperHeavy, whose baffling lineup features not only Jagger and Stone, but former Eurythmic Dave Stewart, Bollywood composer AR Rahman and Damian "Jr Gong" Marley. On the band's debut single, Miracle Worker, the latter seems as bewildered as Stone by the turn his career's taken. "I bet you never would believe that you'd 'ear Damian Marley, Dave Stewart, AR Rahman, Mick Jagger and Joss Stone in a rub-a-dub version!" he cries at the song's conclusion. "Imagine! I mean, think about it!" A cruel voice might add: And then try not to wince when you do.

The song's really not that bad, in fact – pop-reggae brightened by an agreeably preposterous Jagger performance, so OTT you can hear the spittle flying from his lips – and the intention behind SuperHeavy sounds intriguing. Now a resident of Jamaica, Stewart apparently imagined what noise the island's sound systems would make if mixed with Indian orchestras and immediately called the Rolling Stones frontman. Not, it has to be said, the first name that springs to mind when you think of Jamaican sound systems or Bollywood strings, but who knows how things work in the rarefied world of rock royalty? In any case, the descriptions of what emerged from SuperHeavy's star-studded recording sessions are more intriguing still. There has been talk of hour-long tracks and vocals in Urdu, leavened slightly by Jagger's reassurances: "It's not all weird and strange".

The song in Urdu is still there – it's called Satyameva Jayate and starts out rather beautifully, with Rahman singing over hiccupping dancehall beats before, alas, descending into the profoundly unlovely sound of stadium rock decorated with Irish fiddle. But the hour-long jams have been edited down into manageable chunks of reggae-inflected pop-rock, with turn-taking vocals. To his credit, Jagger doesn't entirely dominate proceedings, although it's worth noting that – as when he provided backing vocals on Carly Simon's You're So Vain – you're somehow always very aware Mick Jagger is in the room even when he's allowing others the limelight. At its best, when Rahman's string arrangements collide with the rhythms provided by Marley's backing band, you can just make out the ghost of Stewart's original concept for the project. Unbelievable settles on a beat somewhere between Kingston and Mumbai, Stone's blank-eyed backing vocals an intriguing foil to Jagger's relentless hamming: long-term fans will furthermore be heartened that he's finally discovered a way of singing reggae that doesn't involve lapsing into the here-come-de-Lilt-man voice found on the Stones' 70s excursions into the genre.

The eponymous opener, with Marley at the helm, is pretty exciting, even if it does rather overplay its own wonderfulness. "We're gonna rock yo'selves and take no prisoners, you've got no choice and it's none of your business," sings Stone, rather inviting the response: You think so?

At its least enjoyable, however, you're struck – not for the first time in Jagger's extracurricular oeuvre – by a sense of star-studded pointlessness. This usually happens during the ballads, which are a dead loss – how can so much undoubted talent contrive to come up with something as boring as Never Gonna Change? – although the joyless, leaden rock of I Can't Take It No More is no picnic either. Worse, on Energy, you're struck by the sound of Mick Jagger rapping, a sound you fear will haunt you to the grave.

Still, you can understand the appeal of SuperHeavy for its participants, particularly Jagger, who's been trying to establish himself in a context outside of the Rolling Stones since starring in Performance in 1968. Furthermore, it offers as added inducement the unmissable opportunity to infuriate Keith Richards, who recently broke off from telling anyone who'd listen that Jagger has a small penis to suggest the Stones should regroup to celebrate their 50th anniversary: "I'm just, you know, doing this right now," said Jagger when asked about the possibility.

It's should perhaps be remembered that the last time he decided to ignore Richards' demands for a Stones tour and team up with Dave Stewart instead, theresult was the wretched 1987 single Let's Work, a record that – with its perky 80s pop beat and the-world-don't-owe-you lyrics – sounded like an aerobic workout class presided over by Norman Tebbit. Nothing on SuperHeavy is anything like as bad as that. Whether anything on it is sufficiently good to raise his songwriting partner's ire – or even to hold the listener's interest once the novelty of the band's lineup has passed – is quite another matter.

Personal note: the author as anything but a music specialist. Just lots of useless words ,he just didn't get it at all. Although being in The Guardian is a pretty decent review.

He's clearly a dick! And a pompous dick at that! I can't be arsed to check back - but I think this person always gives Joss a kicking - given half a chance.

I have to agree with you Bryan. A complete and utter one