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Wild Horses: A Conversation

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“Hey Gram it’s Keith man. Where you at? Got this number from Phil.”
“Keef my man, how the heck are ya? Oh yeah, Phil, I’m at this little place in the desert.”
“Cool. Don’t want to keep ya ol’chap. But, ahh, remember that little ditty we pounded out one night, ya know, it was about horses and… relationships.”
Gram laughs out loud. “Yeah man, horses and relationships. I think you might be talkin’ our working title “Wild Horses.”
Keith laughs nervously. “Yeah that’s what we called it wasn’t it? Look, um, Mick heard me doodling with it the other night, as much of it as I could remember.”
“Oh man you better be careful. Gigging late nights with you got me busted.”
“No it’s cool,” Keith continues. “Look, he told me to play some of it for him. I did, what I could remember. Then he made me change one or two of the lines so it sounded more like, well, him. Minor stuff, didn’t even understand why.”
Gram laughs, “Sounds about right.”
Well, look, think we got it down pretty good and, um, well… he wants to record it.
There is just the sound of distance over phone lines. Then a hardy laugh.
“Holy shit, that was some good weed,” Gram exhaling with each word. “I thought I heard you say Mick wants to record my… our song.”
“I know man but you heard right.”
“We’re talking Mick, Rolling Stones, right? I mean it couldn’t be farther from your schtick doncha think?”
“Well yeah pretty much. His schtick anyway. I’m so into the stuff we’ve been doing together.”
Gram’s thoughts wander, looking up at millions of stars in the desert sky. He comes back to this absurd conversation.
“What do I think you’re asking me? Let’s see. I mean obviously he’s going to want his brand on it. I mean it would obviously have to be Jagger/Richards per the corporation.” Another moment of long stoned distance-humming silence. “Well look here Keef ol’ chap,” Gram finally drawls. “I mean that pretty much sucks but it’s not surprising. OK, here’s the deal, clearly I’m not going to have much say over this. And frankly it’s not what your fans want to hear, doubt it’s going to amount to much for the label. But hey, I really don’t need the money.”
“I was hoping you’d….” Keith begins.
Gram interrupts. “You know, I think it’s up there, one of, umm, ya know, a real goodun.” He pauses, then laughs shortly, “No one is going to get that it’s about family and not a love interest. They’ll probably guess it’s about Marianne, not our siblings or sons.” They both laugh, half a world apart.
“Yeah, couldn’t agree more. I mean, we both know where it came from that night.”
“So here’s my deal. Get Mick to let me record it with my boys for the upcoming album. Mick knows the truth, and I don’t think he wants any trouble from out here. We’ll get it out pretty quick, not a single, the album’s well underway, calling it Burrito Deluxe, which between you and me and this…this here Joshua tree, is my last deal with the Brothers. I’m heading solo with backup I can buy. Looking at Elvis’s team.”
“Well yeah that make sense. I’ll approach him with that concept. Thanks. Look, Mick may be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid. And, no offense, he doesn’t think you could sell the shirt off your back.”
They both laugh, Gram first. “No offense taken. You know, I’m afraid he might be dead on with that one.”

Also of possible interest: https://graminternational.wordpress.com/2013/05/18/gram-wrote-wild-horses/


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