Art isn’t meant to be a competition. It’s about expressing what someone feels deep inside, not about outshining the rest. But while Keith Richards saw guitar playing as a kind of sportsmanship, he once said that one blues guitarist would have blown everyone else out of the water if he’d lived longer.
Richards’ style is practically a masterclass in blues techniques. His unique open-G tuning made him one of rock’s most distinctive players, but his sound is rooted in blues legends like B.B. King and Muddy Waters. The way he locks in with Charlie Watts’ rhythm reflects decades of influence, blending grooves from blues greats into something uniquely his own.
Like many rockers, Richards had his idols. While most of the world listened to crooners like Sinatra, Richards immersed himself in Chuck Berry riffs and the intricate sounds of Elvis Presley’s guitarist, Scotty Moore. But to Richards, Robert Johnson was in a league of his own, embodying everything that would later define rock ‘n’ roll’s edge.
Before the idea of rock guitar heroes existed, Johnson set the standard, bringing raw emotion and danger to the stage. Known for his wild ways, Johnson lived on the edge, partying and getting into romantic entanglements that would ultimately lead to his early death—poisoned after a show in a tragic tale that cemented his legendary status. Richards, however, saw beyond the legend; he heard the voice of a man so driven by his muse it was almost supernatural.
Reflecting on what Johnson could have been, Richards once told Guitar Player, “He’d have killed us all! If Johnson had just been a little nicer to his chicks and knew how to play the ladies a little better, then he might have been there instead of Muddy. I have the feeling he would have gone into a band thing. I’ve heard rumors that he did have a band before he died. I don’t know if that’s wishful thinking, but at the same time, I don’t discount it.”
Despite the poor-quality recordings that are all that remain of Johnson’s music, his impact is undeniable. Johnson’s influence on rock is profound; without his shadow, The Rolling Stones might not have created tracks as haunting as “Wild Horses” or “Gimme Shelter.” His songs, touching on life’s darkest struggles, opened doors for raw, personal storytelling in blues and beyond.
Johnson wasn’t trying to be a legend. His music was simply his truth, his way of sharing his story. By being that vulnerable, he showed every future rocker that genuine expression beats any formula or trend. For Richards, Johnson’s power lies in his honesty—a reminder that real art is about putting your heart on the line.
