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By the time you’re thirty gonna look sixty-five/ You won’t look pretty and your friends will have kissed you goodbye…
Long before “deep cuts” became a fashionable phrase for record collectors pretending they discovered vinyl yesterday, Ride On Baby was already hiding in plain sight. Written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards during the explosive Aftermath era, the track captures The Rolling Stones balancing sophisticated pop experimentation with the kind of lyrical bite that guaranteed nobody would mistake them for harmless gentlemen. Between strange instrumentation, sarcasm sharp enough to leave bruises, and a melody far catchier than it has any right to be, Ride On Baby remains one of those forgotten Stones songs that quietly explains why the band outlasted nearly everybody else.
Written by: Jagger/Richard Recorded: RCA Studios, Hollywood, USA, Dec. 8-10 1965
Mick Jagger: vocals Keith Richards: lead guitar, backing vocals, autoharp (unconfirmed. might be Brian) Brian Jones: marimba, autoharp (unconfirmed, might be Keith) Bill Wyman: bass Charlie Watts: drums, congas (or timpani) Guest musicians: Jack Nitzsche (harpsichords, maybe piano)
More about Ride On Baby by The Rolling Stones
*By Marcelo Sonaglioni
A Forgotten gem of the Aftermath era
Ride On Baby occupies one of the strangest corners in The Rolling Stones catalog: a sharp-edged pop song recorded during the legendary Aftermath sessions, shelved for reasons nobody has ever fully explained, then quietly resurrected on the US-only Flowers compilation in 1967. Written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards in 1965, the track somehow slipped between eras while still sounding completely tied to the band’s creative explosion of the mid-’60s. It has the melodic sophistication the Stones were rapidly developing, but also the sneering attitude that kept them far removed from polished British pop acts. In many ways Ride On Baby feels like the sound of a group testing just how sophisticated and sarcastic they could become at the exact same moment. Even buried on a compilation album, the song never quite disappeared from hardcore Stones mythology.
Brian Jones turns the song into something stranger
Part of what makes Ride On Baby so fascinating is the way Brian Jones practically decorates every corner of the recording with unusual textures. During the December 1965 RCA Studios sessions in Hollywood the band was already pushing beyond straightforward rhythm and blues, experimenting with instruments that few rock groups were even considering. Jones reportedly handled marimba, harpsichord, rhythm guitar (and possibly koto, as rumoured), although the Japanese instrument is nearly impossible to detect in the final mix. The marimba, however, is impossible to miss. It gives the song much of its dreamy, bouncing melodic identity and links it stylistically to other experimental Aftermath-era recordings like Under My Thumb.
Meanwhile, Keith Richards added autoharp, an unusual choice borrowed more from Appalachian folk traditions than London rock clubs. That strange combination of harpsichord, marimba, autoharp, and jagged guitars gives Ride On Baby an oddly elegant atmosphere beneath all the lyrical venom. The arrangement almost tricks listeners into thinking they’re hearing something sweet before Mick Jagger arrives sounding thoroughly unimpressed with humanity. Even Charlie Watts and Bill Wyman help drive that contrast, laying down a tight rhythmic foundation that gradually becomes more forceful as the song builds toward its accelerated fadeout.
Flowers gave the song a second life
By the time Ride On Baby finally emerged on Flowers in June 1967 the song already sounded like a hidden relic from another phase of the band. Flowers itself was a slightly odd release, assembled mostly for the American market and packed with tracks that UK audiences either hadn’t heard or hadn’t received in the same format. Yet Ride On Baby fit perfectly within that transitional atmosphere. The track captured the exact moment when the Stones were moving away from pure blues revivalism and toward more adventurous studio craftsmanship.
Curiously, audiences in Britain first encountered the song through Chris Farlowe, whose October 1966 single version was produced by Mick Jagger himself. Farlowe’s recording leaned harder into orchestral pop, adding female backing vocals and a more theatrical presentation. It reached No. 31 on the British charts, but lacked the dangerous cool of the Stones’ unreleased version. The Rolling Stones recording feels looser, sharper, and far more sarcastic, especially in the way Jagger casually slices through the lyrics with amused cruelty. The contrast between the two versions says a lot about how the band approached pop music during the mid-1960s: they wanted catchy songs, but they also wanted them to sound slightly threatening.
The lyrics never pretend to be polite
Lyrically Ride On Baby reflects the darker side of the Jagger-Richards songwriting partnership during the Aftermath period. The song targets a manipulative social climber whose beauty hides what the narrator sees as emptiness and dishonesty. There is no subtlety whatsoever in lines mocking the woman’s intelligence, ambition, or future appearance. Decades later, those lyrics remain controversial, especially among critics who viewed many mid-’60s Stones songs as openly hostile toward women.
Still, part of the reason the song survives is because the bitterness is wrapped inside such an infectious arrangement. The contrast between catchy melodies and acidic lyrics became one of the Stones’ defining tricks during this era. Ride On Baby might not have achieved the legendary status of Paint It Blackor Mother’s Little Helper, but it reveals the same fearless willingness to mix pop craftsmanship with sarcasm, insecurity, and social tension.
Years later, the track resurfaced again on the German-focused compilation The Rest of the Best in 1983, proving that even some of the band’s overlooked recordings refused to stay buried forever. What once seemed like an abandoned Aftermath outtake slowly evolved into one of the most fascinating hidden chapters in the Stones’ 1960s catalog.
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