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Rolling Stones songs: Anyway You Look At It
And people say I’m cynical/ They never want the truth…
More about Anyway You Look At It by The Rolling Stones
*By Marcelo Sonaglioni
Anyway You Look at It: A Hidden Moment of Vulnerability from The Rolling Stones
For a band long celebrated for swagger, grit, and the electric bite of rock and roll, Anyway You Look at It stands out as a rare and disarming confession. Recorded during the Bridges to Babylon sessions, the song gently pulls back the curtain on a different kind of Glimmer Twins chemistry—one rooted not in riffs or rebellion, but in tenderness. The narrator speaks with the quiet certainty of someone who has stumbled into love almost by miracle, repeatedly returning to the same realization no matter the chaos surrounding him: she’s the one.
And while its origins lie in the late 1990s, the track feels like it slipped through a time tunnel from the Aftermath and Between the Buttons era. Romantic but not saccharine, melodic yet understated, it’s the kind of track that seems both unusual for the Stones and entirely believable once heard.
Origins and Era
Although the track emerged in the second half of the 1990s, its melodic sensibility and emotional softness could have easily belonged to the Stones’ mid-sixties period. There’s an unmistakable echo of their more introspective Aftermath years—those moments when they flirted with baroque pop, chamber textures, and wistful storytelling. The romantic sentiment at the heart of Anyway You Look at It fits effortlessly alongside that lineage, even if its actual structure reflects the production aesthetic of Bridges to Babylon. Ultimately released as the B-side to the Saint of Me single in January 1998, the song slowly began finding its audience. It later resurfaced in the Rarities compilation and the expansive box set The Singles Collection 1971–2006, ensuring it wouldn’t remain buried in obscurity for long.
Sound and Atmosphere
Musically, the song arrives as something of a quiet surprise—an unexpected pocket of melancholy and jazz-inflected warmth. The atmosphere immediately announces itself as different: delicate, wistful, shaded with hints of smoky lounge colors rather than the Stones’ more customary rock textures. It recalls the fragile mood of Losing My Touch from Forty Licks, particularly through Charlie Watts’s exquisite use of brushes. His subtle, airy percussion shapes the track’s heartbeat, granting it a tender intimacy that never draws too much attention to itself.
The bass work—likely played by Darryl Jones—adds another dimension. Electric rather than acoustic, its phrasing feels melodic yet grounded, weaving in and out of the arrangement with a fluidity reminiscent of Jaco Pastorius, one of Jones’s great inspirations. Every element in the arrangement moves with intention, allowing the song to breathe while deepening its emotional resonance.
Instrumentation and Performance
Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood create the song’s acoustic core, playing with a sensitivity that communicates more than any distortion-laden riff ever could. Keith’s acoustic part is filled with nuance—gentle shifts of tone, tiny inflections, and patterns that feel like quiet thoughts spoken aloud. Ronnie’s supporting acoustic line gives the arrangement balance, grounding the harmonic space while letting Keith’s details shine.
A cello weaves through the track like a wistful narrator, adding a layer of nostalgia and romance. Whether performed by a live musician or sampled remains undocumented, but the tone suggests human hands—a careful, expressive presence capable of shaping the track’s emotional undertow. The cello turns out to be the perfect companion to the acoustics, reinforcing the tender melancholy at the heart of the song.
Then there are the vocals. Mick Jagger delivers the verses with a confidential softness, as though he were whispering the truth directly into someone’s ear. It’s a performance rich in emotion, not grandstanding. When Keith steps in to take the bridge around 2:33, the shift feels like a natural continuation rather than a contrast. Their voices, different yet deeply compatible, blend with striking grace, making the transition seamless. In this rare moment of dual vulnerability, both singers reveal sides of themselves often overshadowed by their more public personas.
Legacy and Place in the Catalogue
With its atypical structure, subdued production, and unabashed romanticism, it’s easy to see why the Stones relegated Anyway You Look at It to a B-side. It didn’t fit neatly within the commercial narrative of Bridges to Babylon, nor did it resemble the swaggering anthems the world typically associated with the band. And yet, precisely because of these deviations, the track shines. It showcases an emotional register the Stones seldom display so openly—one where affection is quiet, earnest, and unguarded.
Anyway You Look at It has since carved out a small but meaningful space in the broader Stones universe. For listeners who appreciate the band’s softer moments, it stands as a reminder of the unexpected corners in their vast catalogue. It is a love song not of spectacle, but of certainty—and in that simplicity, it finds its beauty.
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