Still Waiting for the B-Sides: A Love Letter to Lost Rolling Stones Moments Oh, Rolling Stones, how you tantalize us with your iconic riffs and timeless charisma! Yet, every time I glance at your Singles 1963–1965 box set, a heart-wrenching realization washes over me like an errant guitar solo: what about the B-sides? The forgotten tunes, those invisible songs that linger to the left of the singles we adore. As a devoted Stonehead, I find myself standing in a world where A-sides shine like glittering gems, while B-sides sit in the deep shadows, like uninvited guests at a party nobody bothered to kick out. It is no small feat to be a Rolling Stones fan, constantly caught in a whirlwind of anticipation and nostalgia. You tease us with your legendary hits—screaming anthems that rally the troops for heartache and rebellion—yet your B-sides whisper softly, exposing vulnerabilities we never knew we craved. They’re the timid notes of Mick Jagger’s soul, the muted reflections of Keith Richards' creativity, left to echo in the dusty corners of record collections, never given the glory they deserve. Let’s not forget the eclectic array of lost gems—including passionate ballads that could make anyone swoon, jangly escapades bursting with youthful energy, or the deeper cuts that threaten to reveal the band’s inner sanctum. Imagine the emotional scenes that could paint the backdrop of “I’m Free,” or the desperation in “As Tears Go By.” These songs could have filled the gaps in our hearts, those gaps that even “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” can’t quite bridge. But alas, we are left with mere specters of what could have been. Those B-sides are the wallflowers of the marital dance between the band and the fans. They stand shyly, eyes cast down, tragically overlooked as the A-sides command the dance floor. It feels almost cruel, like the scene in a movie where the best friend is left out of the epic romance entirely, only to fade away into the background while the lead couple prances through the title song’s chorus. To add insult to injury, we now hold in our hands the faithful replicas of previous single covers, perfect little reminders of what we once jubilantly clutched in our hands. Yet, tucked away in the folds of nostalgia, there remain those B-sides, languishing in their vinyl prisons, yearning to be freed and appreciated for the perplexing complexity they provide. The irony of this situation is hard to digest. While the world celebrates “Under My Thumb,” the soft, sweet harmonies of its B-side languish, begging to be rediscovered. Perhaps they are a reflection of our own experiences—a parallel existence where the overlooked moments shape our lives just as powerfully as the headline acts. In a world where everything seems to merit a playlist, a vinyl revival, and endless streaming, there’s a haunting déjà vu tinged with melodrama. As I delve into this box set, I find myself addressing the missing friends from my musical family. I pen an open letter to those uncanny B-sides, the heartbeats of an era that never got the chance to blossom fully. I implore you to rise from your musical limbo! Break free from your neglected grooves and gift us the love stories, heartbreaks, and joys that had to be silenced. In conclusion, as I sit here, still waiting for the B-sides, I find solace in knowing that these beloved tracks are merely hiding in plain sight. They wait patiently while their louder cousins take center stage, gradually accumulating dust. And just maybe, someday soon, the Rolling Stones will pardon us the privilege of witnessing these lost moments flower into the legends they were meant to be. Until then, I’ll continue to silently serenade the shadows, longing for the sound of that elusive chorus in the distance.