Rolling Stones: Sticky Fingers (Super Deluxe)

A zip-busting bonanza, stuffed with extras.

You can trust Louder Our experienced team has worked for some of the biggest brands in music. From testing headphones to reviewing albums, our experts aim to create reviews you can trust. Find out more about how we review.

Well, it’s always been an object of desire. In spite of the fact that Andy Warhol’s iconic fly-zip was doubtessly destined to rip the piss out of the back cover of your Let It Bleed (if filed correctly), a vinyl Sticky Fingers was an essential artefact for any snake-hipped 1970s nicotine lout. Even discounting the packaging, or any latter-day audio extras, Sticky Fingers is, without any exaggeration, your bona fide 30-out-of-10 album.

From Brown Sugar to Moonlight Mile it’s faultless. It delivers everything accepted critical opinion leads you to expect – and more.

But we’re not here to praise Jagger’s career-best lazy diction, Keith’s piratical riff-chop swagger, Charlie’s whip-tha-wimmen snare-cracking, Bill’s priapically-insistent bass or Mick Taylor’s celestial slidework. We’re here to snort the heady musk of the vinyl, to tote the reassuring heft of the massive box, to trip our fingertips with a near-erotic frisson across the big, old, Nick Kent-blessed hardback book, to scratch our heads over the cardboard cut-out of a trouserless Mick and to luxuriate in the pristine, hi-fidelity audio of the Clapton-enhanced Brown Sugar that’s taunted us from scritchy-scratchy bootlegs ever since punk were a lad.

One’s hyper-cranked auditory circuits will similarly spark to selections from contemporary shows at the Marquee and the Roundhouse, while glazing over at just how preposterously rock’n’roll-defining the band looked, sounded and probably smelled in 1971.

It comes at a spouse-losingly high price but, bugger that, it’s got Bitch on it! Just be extremely careful that you don’t lean your Super Deluxe Exile on its zip./o:p


Fantastic plastic… plus

Slayer: Repentless (Metal Eagle Edition)

Not actually vinyl, but surely the most metal release ever: a 3kg alloy eagle limited to 3,000 units. Packed inside the aluminium case are a CD of Repentless, a CD and DVD of last year’s Wacken Festival show, a making-of documentary, a poster, a sticker and numbered certificate. Cripes.

The Babe Rainbow: EP

The psychedelic Aussies’ debut release is a baby-pink, limited-edition 10-inch on Melbourne’s collectable Flightless label, so expect it to sell fast and gain in value quickly. Includes the classic Secret Enchanted Broccoli Forest, a song so infused with the spirit of 1967 it’s a surprise the vinyl isn’t bong-shaped.

The Band: The Capitol Albums 1968-1977

Limited-edition, nine-album box set containing all the Band you’ll ever need: the albums Music From Big Pink, The Band, Stage Fright, Cahoots, Rock of Ages, Moondog Matinee, Northern Lights… and Islands are all here, pressed on pristine, sexy, 180-gram vinyl, all housed in a “rigid box”./o:p

Ian Fortnam

Classic Rock’s Reviews Editor for the last 20 years, Ian stapled his first fanzine in 1977. Since misspending his youth by way of ‘research’ his work has also appeared in such publications as Metal Hammer, Prog, NME, Uncut, Kerrang!, VOX, The Face, The Guardian, Total Guitar, Guitarist, Electronic Sound, Record Collector and across the internet. Permanently buried under mountains of recorded media, ears ringing from a lifetime of gigs, he enjoys nothing more than recreationally throttling a guitar and following a baptism of punk fire has played in bands for 45 years, releasing recordings via Esoteric Antenna and Cleopatra Records.