Midnight Rambler ends with the line, I'll stick my knife right down your throat baby, and it hurts! Whenever I hear this defiance, the idea of mass murder seems strangely appealing, and I wonder why the careers guidance teacher at school didn't bring this to my attention all those years ago. It certainly would've been more fun than the soppy arts degree I ended up doing.

I am a quiet man with an uneventful life, but the spirit of this song connects with something primal in me. Whatever that something is, it has sweltered under a blanket of repression and guilt; given the opportunity by this music, it dances for joy in the light of day. I am left feeling whole and exhilarated.

Let It Bleed contains spiritually uplifting music, yet it is unlikely to be adopted by church choirs anywhere. It embraces violent, 'fallen' parts of us, at least those as defined by Christian theology. Yet, these are real, vital aspects of our personalities, not mere 'absences' of good. If man was created in God's image, it follows that there must be some darkness in the divine also. Attributing all our savagery to original sin (or worse, some cloven-hoofed rascal with a tail and horns) doesn't really wash with me.

Fans of this album all have their particular favourites. A couple of years ago, Gimme Shelter was voted the Stones' best ever song by readers of the British music magazine, Q. It's certainly a plausible contender. An apocalyptic vision of war, Richards' guitars and (best of all) Mary Clayton's backing vocals conjure up doom and menace by the bucket load. Then there is the title-track, Let It Bleed, a celebration of earthly pleasures and the company of fallen angels. Ian Stewart's honky-tonk piano and again, Richards' slide guitar, give it the most delicious reek of sin and abandon.

For me, however, the most obvious rival to Midnight Rambler as the album's finest track is You Can't Always Get What You Want. This song's potential is transformed by the presence of the London Bach Choir, turning an otherwise mournful country lament into something approaching a religious vision. It's as inspired collaboration between the worlds of rock and classical as on the Beatles' A Day In The Life two years previously.

You can't always get what you want, sings Jagger of his relationship disappointment, but if you try some time you might just get what you need. This is a world of bruised, angry souls, damaged characters like Mr Jimmy (Man, did he look pretty ill), who persist and survive in spite of their hardships. It seems the best we can do is accept ourselves as we are, with all our weaknesses, and be ready to catch life's gifts where they fall. You might just get what you need is therefore a statement of faith amid adversity. As the choir spirals its way up through the scales near the end of the song, there is the impression of a higher meaning shining through our struggles in this world. There's something divine in the darkness.