There was nothing holy about Jagger’s lyrics, though, which attacked the modern world – its commercialism, its obsession with consumer culture, its inability to excite a 22 year-old man who’d grown tired of the status quo – with fierce, sexual language. Ten years later, the Church of Scientology would buy the Jack Tar Harrison Hotel and start hosting religious retreats by that very same pool. Frustrated, Jagger headed down to the outdoor pool and fleshed out the lyrics that Richards had already started. To prevent further chaos, the musicians were told to go back to the Jack Tar Harrison Hotel and stay put. The Stones were supposed to be playing a show in Clearwater, Florida, but their fans had rioted after the first four songs and the concert was cut short. Like most Rolling Stones classics, “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” was a team effort, with Mick Jagger adding his own contributions on May 6, 1965. Out of that frustration arose the Rolling Stones’ biggest single to date, not to mention one of the most enduring rock songs of all time. Whatever the subject matter, something made Richards angry enough to clamber out of bed and scream his satisfaction into a tape recorder.
Who knows what sort of sordid, oddball stuff Keith Richards dreams about? Some things are better left unsaid. Richards had apparently woken up with a melody in his head, recorded it with his acoustic guitar and then fallen back asleep.
After several repetitions, the music faded out and gave way to 40 minutes of snoring. “I can’t get no satisfaction,” went the melody, sung by Richards in a sleepy, half-conscious voice. Curious, he rewound the cassette and pushed play.Ī three-note guitar riff came blasting out of the speakers, followed by some basic chords and a simple refrain. He’d put a new tape into the machine one day earlier, but now the cassette was at the end of its spool, having somehow wound its way through 45 minutes of useable tape. The Philips cassette player that he kept in his London bedroom appeared to be broken. It was a spring morning in 1965, several weeks before the start of the Rolling Stones’ third North American tour, when Keith Richards rolled out of bed and noticed something strange.
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