For a band as legendary as the Rolling Stones, missteps are rare—but not nonexistent. Among their vast catalog, one track has quietly carried the label of a “career mistake” in the eyes of guitarist Keith Richards: “Fool to Cry.”
Released in 1976 as part of the album Black and Blue, “Fool to Cry” marked a noticeable shift in the band’s sound. Instead of the gritty, swaggering rock that defined classics like “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” or “Brown Sugar,” the song leaned heavily into a softer, almost sentimental ballad style. It featured delicate piano, falsetto vocals from Mick Jagger, and a subdued arrangement that felt worlds apart from the Stones’ rebellious identity.
At first glance, the song wasn’t a failure commercially—it actually performed reasonably well on the charts. But for Richards, success on paper didn’t translate into artistic satisfaction. Over time, he came to view the track as overly soft and lacking the raw edge that defined the band’s essence. In fact, he once described it bluntly as a “very boring tune.”
That criticism wasn’t just casual frustration—it reflected a deeper tension within the band during that era. The mid-1970s were a period of transition for the Stones. They were experimenting with new styles, including soul, funk, and softer ballads, partly influenced by changing musical trends and internal dynamics. Richards, however, remained deeply rooted in blues-driven rock and roll. To him, “Fool to Cry” felt like a step away from authenticity.
The disconnect even showed up on stage. In one now-infamous moment during a performance in Germany, Richards reportedly became so disengaged while playing the song that he nearly fell asleep. That incident became symbolic of his overall feeling: the song simply didn’t belong in the high-energy, dangerous world the Stones had built.
Because of this, the band gradually pushed the track into the background. Unlike many of their hits, “Fool to Cry” rarely appeared in live setlists over the years. It wasn’t officially erased, but it was quietly sidelined—effectively “buried” in comparison to their more celebrated work.
What makes this story fascinating is that it highlights the internal standards of a band that has always thrived on reinvention. Even a decent charting single could be dismissed if it didn’t meet their artistic identity. For Richards, music wasn’t just about popularity—it was about attitude, energy, and truth. And “Fool to Cry,” in his view, missed that mark.
In the end, the song stands as a rare glimpse into the Stones’ self-criticism. It reminds us that even rock legends second-guess their choices—and sometimes, the songs they leave behind say just as much about them as the ones they celebrate.