Like what you see? Help keep it going! This ad-free site runs on the support of readers like you. Your donation helps cover costs and keeps fresh content coming your way every day. Thank you!
Rolling Stones songs: New Faces
Well, well who is under his spell/ Is paying the devil his due…
Written by: Jagger/Richards Recorded: Windmill Lane Studios, Dublin, Ireland, Nov. 3-Dec. 10 1993; Ronnie Wood’s Sandymount Studios, Kildare, Island, July 9-Aug. 6 and Sept. 1994; Don Was’ Studio and A&M Studios, Los Angeles, USA, Jan. 15-Apr. 1994 *Data taken from Martin Elliott’s book THE ROLLING STONES COMPLETE RECORDING SESSIONS 1962-2012
Mick Jagger: vocals, guitar Keith Richards: guitar, backing vocals Charlie Watts: tambourine Guest musicians: Darryl Jones (bass), Chuck Leavell (harmonium and harpsichord), Frankie Gavin (pennywhistle), Luis Jardim (shaker)
New Faces opens like a quiet doorway into another era, summoning the pastel haze of the mid-sixties with a grace that feels both intentional and instinctive. Instead of leaning on nostalgia outright, the song borrows the emotional palette of Aftermath and the delicate poise of Lady Jane, yet reshapes them into something more reflective, even resigned. The young protagonist is no longer the narrator; he’s an outsider looking in, noticing the figure of youth drifting into view with bright blue eyes and effortless charm. From this vantage point, the storyteller registers the quiet fear of being replaced—not through melodrama, but through the subtle, modern ache of love aging alongside him. Time loosens certainty, and the song leans into that truth with understated elegance.
Writing and shifting roles
The origins of New Faces weave through the Stones’ creative space during their time in Barbados. Mick Jagger wrote the piece on guitar, initially envisioning it as a courtly ballad with a faint sixteenth-century silhouette. But as often happens, the track found its final form only after the band began trading instruments with their usual playful curiosity. Keith Richards first sat at the keyboards, and soon the two switched places—Jagger moving to harpsichord, Richards returning to guitar. This musical shuffle reshaped the tone of the entire song, loosening its antiquated quality before ultimately redirecting it back toward the Renaissance-inspired feeling Mick originally toyed with. Interestingly, while Jagger claims responsibility for restoring the harpsichord’s presence, Keith has echoed the same claim, reflecting the shared fingerprints that tend to define the best Jagger–Richards collaborations. And fittingly, the bridge carries an unmistakable hint of Richards’ melodic instincts, tying the songwriting partnership into the fabric of the track.
Production
In the studio the atmosphere surrounding New Faces became as striking as the instruments themselves. Mick Jagger adopted a vocal timbre rarely heard from him—lower, warmer, and carrying a kind of serene confidence, perhaps mirroring a more grounded chapter of his personal life. His improved dynamic with Richards during this period may also have eased this softer performance style into being. Jagger’s acoustic guitar, panned subtly to the left, sets the foundation, while he also whispers the count-in just before the music begins, creating an intimacy that listeners feel more than consciously notice.
Keith Richards’ second acoustic guitar complements Mick’s part with a deft, elegant touch. His solo at 1:49, though brief, is one of the song’s emotional hinges—a reminder of how fluently Richards can converse within a ballad’s gentle contours. Curiously, Ron Wood sits this recording out entirely, one of the very rare instances since joining the band. Charlie Watts offers a minimal but crucial presence, playing tambourine with his unmistakable rhythmic discipline, joined by Luís Jardim’s shaker from 1:33 onward. Their subtle percussive textures keep the song from drifting too far into stillness.
Adding another layer of color, Frankie Gavin—who had already contributed fiddle to The Worst—switches to pennywhistle here. Though modest in the mix, its faint brightness adds a pastoral shade that matches the song’s Renaissance-inspired architecture. Meanwhile, Darryl Jones anchors everything with a confident bass line. Though performed with skill, its tone feels slightly mismatched to the delicate, almost antique character of the arrangement. And circling back to the key stylistic choice: Chuck Leavell’s harpsichord. Likely synthesized, it sits prominently in the mix and has become one of the song’s defining signatures. Whether this is a brilliant textural decision or a debatable one depends on the listener’s taste, but it undeniably gives New Faces its distinct sonic identity.
A modern return to the past
What ultimately makes New Faces compelling is not just its musical style but its emotional orientation. While its textures gesture toward Elizabethan balladry and sixties romanticism, its thematic heart is distinctly modern. The fear of being overshadowed by someone younger is expressed with striking subtlety: there are no grand confrontations, no dramatic breakdowns—just the quiet, creeping uncertainty that comes with time. The song’s structure, its production choices, and its gentle performance all echo this idea. By moving backward in style, the Stones shine a light on a wholly contemporary anxiety, making the past a mirror for the present.
New Faces isn’t simply a nostalgic experiment; it’s a meditation on aging desire, creative reinvention, and the shifting identities we carry through love. Through its layered production and elegant songwriting, the track bridges decades with surprising grace, offering a moment where history and emotion fold into one another with a remarkably light touch.
Like what you see? Help keep it going! This site runs on the support of readers like you. Your donation helps cover costs and keeps fresh Rolling Stones content coming your way every day. Thank you!
Stones Data on Substack
