(Source: Virgin Media)
(Source: Rolling Stone)
Age mellows everybody and also slows them down which is why in recent years, after a cancer scare to do with his vocal cords, Rod The Mod started visiting Tin Pan Alley for his repertoire and with other aging rockers also taking things easy.
Plus, at his age, Rod Stewart singing about Hot Legs and asking, Do Ya Thinking I’m Sexy would be embarrassing and bad cheese to even his staunchest fan.
McCartney can still rock with the best of them and remains one of the best bass players around though he,too, is going down Tin Pan Alley and trying to grow old gracefully. Yesterday was yesterday and he should know it.
And then we have the Stones- most pushing Seventy- but with very few questioning their age and only marveling at The Greatest Rock And Roll Band In The World.
What keeps these billionaire musicians still touring the world and playing their arses off in front of millions?
What keeps Mick prancing onstage like a horny Little Red Rooster and white Tina Turner while still asking for Brown Sugar and to have some Sympathy for the devil while dear old Charlie smiles at it all and drums along?
What keeps the guitars of Ron and Keith still knocking but you can’t come home with all eyes fixated on Captain Jack Sparrow’s very cool old man who has seen it all, lived through it all and who probably died and came back to climb a coconut tree at the age of 61, fall, knock himself unconscious and still get up and keep on rocking?
So, why are they bothering to go through one more last tour- maybe? Money? Nah.
It has to do with their DNA and probably being onstage and letting the music take them to Never Never Land being the one thing that keeps them timeless and ageless and priceless Peter Pans of Rock.
Our parents might like doing their crossword puzzles to keep their minds active.The Rolling Stones want to feed off their music and the energy returned to them by their audiences.
There’s a bit of the vampire to it all as they need new blood- from audiences and all those they meet on the road- to keep them going across that Moonlight Mile and being Midnight Ramblers and Street Fighting Men.
(Source: Rolling Stones)
Often I’ve thought what it must be like to have Keith as your old man. Think about that for a sec and then think of old TV series like Father Knows Best and Mr Brady from The Brady Bunch. Rock And Roll sure saved us from the plastic fantastic of boredom.
(Source: Screen Crave)
Ozzie being Dad must be weird, but Keith being Dad is cool and great to bring along to Parents Day. Imagine the rambling conversation he might have with the teachers, man, while he chain smoked, rattled those bracelets and held nothing back.
It’s also Meet The Fockers in reverse and something Johnny Depp or Ben Stiller should think about as a film project. The Flockers should meet Keith as their new relative. It would be good for their souls.
What’s inspiring about the Stones and why I respect them is that they never tried to con anyone by breaking up for decades, running outta dosh and deciding to have a half-arsed “reunion tour” like so many other bands including The Police.
The band must have broken up many times over the course of their career but never officially.
Everyone has gone off to do side projects with varying degrees of success, but they have never let go of piloting the Mothership.
What a Mothership it’s been and what stories it carries in its time capsule: All the drug busts, the Mars Bar story involving the gorgeous Marianne Faithful and the very sad mental breakdown of Brian Jones and how his band was supposedly taken over by Mick and Keith along with his women ending in the Stone being thrown outta his own band and then being found dead at the end of his swimming pool. Was he killed? Why? By who? All still questions.
There was the killing at Altamont while the Stones sang Sympathy For The Devil, Mick’s film roles, the stream of unconsciousness women that floated in and outta their lives, the constant friendly rivalry with the Beatles, and through it all has been the music on Sticky Fingers, Let It Bleed, Exile On Main Street, the very underrated Aftermath, the brilliant Beggar’s Banquet, Some Girls and all those earlier singles and albums and Keith’s incredible riffs.
He might have been the world’s most elegantly wasted man, but he is also The Human Riff and may the licks roll off his tongue and guitar forever.