Stones in Exile Page #3

So, it was a bit strange.

- You can stop taking photographs.

- Shut up, man.

People came from all over the world

for the wedding.

Some musician had to go back on tour

or recording, or something like that,

and some other had nothing to do.

So, like usual,

it ends up at Keith's house.

In the South of France, if you have money

you can get anything.

On the right you've got Marseilles,

which is a very well-known place

for illegal products,

and on the other side,

you've got Italy, with the Mafia.

So, you join the two together,

and you understand.

I had a non-verbal agreement

with Keith.

This was very simple.

You get high

on music and photography,

stick to it, I take care of the rest.

At the beginning,

it was interesting and fun,

but the thing is,

it was fantastically disruptive.

Of the band, of our lives,

of our social life, everything.

I hated leaving England.

I did, because,

when you got down there,

you had to try to replace

everything you loved, cos it wasn't there.

You had to, sort of, buy...

try to buy PG Tips to make your tea.

Then you had to deal with the French milk,

which wasn't the same.

Then you bought Bird's Custard

and Branston Pickle and piccalilli

and all the English things

you were used to in your life,

you had to import them all

because they weren't there.

I'm not a very good mover.

And no, I didn't like...

And I was English and I couldn't

see living in France, and that.

I mean, the mental thing was a bit,

sort of... strange.

You were in exile, particularly me,

I couldn't speak French or anything.

I joined the Stones May or June of '69,

and so, I hadn't earned enough money

or done enough work on that level

to have any kind of tax problems.

But one of my most vivid memories

is being flown there in

our own private jet.

I thought, "My God. This is the high life,

this is wonderful."

We looked around for studios,

but, especially in the South of France

in the early... in 1971,

there was no good rooms to work in,

and the equipment was shabby,

and nobody felt comfortable

in anywhere we looked at.

We tried various cinemas

and public halls that one might rent,

and we just never found a suitable site.

In the end, we chose convenience,

I suppose, over sound,

and went for the basement

of Keith's house.

We said, "We have this truck,

our own mobile studio.

"Why don't we just forget about them

and just bring in the truck

"and work around the problems?

"At least, this way,

we don't have to ask our interpreter

"every time we want to turn it off or on."

Good afternoon!

Basically, I think that the

Stones really felt like exiles.

"It's us against the world now.

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