The Rolling Stones used to be introduced as "the greatest rock 'n' roll band in the world." That phrasing may have seemed audacious once, but in 2001, who's to argue? The group not only has its great music behind it, but it also lacks any serious contenders to the title, having long since outdistanced its peers. History has borne out the hyperbolic claim, but it's also helped shroud the Stones in a mystique that remains difficult to penetrate, even in the group's current incarnation as a millions-reaping touring corporation. Now, no matter how often the band falls down in public—whether through mediocre albums, paternity scandals, or graphic physical decay—its essence remains untouchable for reasons acknowledged by the title of Stephen Davis' career-encompassing band biography, Old Gods Almost Dead. More than just a band, The Rolling Stones has become a multifaceted symbol of the enduring power of the blues, the primacy of rock 'n' roll in post-war culture, the dark side of the '60s counterculture, modern Dionysian excess, and, lately, the ability of all of the above to withstand the passing of time. Even the facts laid out in detail here do nothing to dent the myth. Having previously chronicled Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith, Davis moves on to the big show and emerges with a detailed overview, even if his subject eludes him. Old Gods gets the band's movements down, but never quite gets a handle on the personalities behind it, leaving analysis to others. Davis labels as pretentious those who would interpret the disastrous Altamont concert as the symbolic end of the '60s, but his book might benefit from a little pretension. Repetitive, and occasionally sensationalistic as a prose stylist (describing Richards' playing as "louder than bombs" on two separate occasions and referring to one of Mick Jagger's trysts as "three days of piece and love"), Davis sticks to a thoroughness that allows him little breathing room. His analysis of the Stones' music seldom digs deeper than a fan's intense appreciation, and only Brian Jones emerges as a fully formed character. The author also has few qualms about taking sides, reserving far more kindness for Keith Richards than for Jagger, who's most often seen through the eyes of his harshest critics. As an attempt to get all the facts in one place, however, Old Gods is indispensable. From the sordid details of Brian Jones' disintegration and Richards' addiction to heroin (both as bad as even the direst rumors suggest) to the Stones' squabbling later days, Davis has the dirt and no reservations about sharing it. But where reprised scandals would probably embarrass most public figures, Davis' account only feeds the myth. The dirt is integral to the allure of his soiled gods, musicians who became more than just a great rock 'n' roll band a long time ago.