I'm watching with autistic-like focus, the BBC documentary with 'Keef' Richards on his newly published autobiography 'Life'. A bland title, even by the standards of the most toothless simpleton but in the case of Keith - life and the fact that he is still alive is an achievement of gravity defying proportions, so in that sense: well said K-dog.
It's evident as the line of questioning becomes ever more convoluted that he is indeed a man of few succinct and slightly disjointed words; a man who appears to embody the meaning of 'less is more' in every aspect of his approach to life with the exception of music, drugs and women. In that order.
The most revelatory comment of all is when Keith describes 'Satisfaction' as a sketch he didn't get enough time to make into an oil-painting due to the pressure of touring in the early to mid 60s and the record company's insatiable appetite for singles - ready or not. I can't imagine that song being any better than it is. It's a mind blowing discovery.
Asked whether he realised the part he played in changing the consciousness of a generation (from the way he played guitar to his way of dressing) - he self-effacingly explains that all he was doing was trying to forget the war.
So this mangled old hellraiser with his knobbly, deformed phalanges and curt, humble responses casts a long shadow in the world of music and pop culture; one from under which no contemporary artist will ever out-cast.
Baudelaire once said: "Anybody, providing he know how to be amusing has the right to talk about himself." In the case of Keith - he doesn't even have to be funny. Though he is, endearingly and alluringly so.
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