IT'S A GAS, GAS, GAS!!
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Name: DownHomeGirl
E-Mail:
Subject: RE: Ronnie, Mick T & Bill Together!
Date: Friday, June 29, 2012
Time: 11:28:27 AM
Remote Address: 96.252.221.91
Message ID: 269760
Parent ID: 269759
Thread ID: 269739
Steve, I couldn't agree with you more: PROUD STONES FAN FOR LIFE. Well said!!
Here's why: I stood, transfixed, as the opening Bo Diddley chords of "Not Fade Away" rang out on WABC-New York Radio. Then I heard Mick's VOICE: "I'm gonna tell you how it's gonna be - YOU'RE GONNA GIVE YOUR LOVE TO ME." And I did. I was a goner. 12 years old in 1964, and I knew my life had changed irrevocably.
1965: I am thirteen. My bro is a budding rock musician, older than I, who manages to con someone with a car into driving us all into the city from New Jersey. We go to the old Academy of Music on 14th Street in Manhattan -- a very modestly-sized venue. The air is electric, the screaming is going on. Though I am a girl, I do not scream: I listen. And there, right in front of me, are Mick, Keith, Brian Jones, Charlie and Bill Wyman.
Mick rips into their wonderful cover of "Everybody Needs Somebody To Love," Even back then -- he was SO young, in May '65 he was still 21 years old, he's wearing nondescript pants and his old favorite striped sweatshirt -- man, he could work a crowd like no one else. He sings that song and starts to point to girls in the sudience with "I need YOU, YOU, YOU." He points to me. I do not scream, I blow him a kiss.
Brian is playing his famous white guitar (I think it was a Vox), grinning from ear to hair, his amazing blond hair shining in the spotlights. He and Keith are riffing and ripping. Bill stands like a statue and is part of the machine ('scuse me while I kiss the Who, & Hendrix!): the pounding, balls-on-accurate rhythm machine that is Charlie Watts and Bill Wyman, whose bass is always held nearly upright.
The audience goes insane. They play all the early stuff. The snotty New York critics predict that compared with the Beatles, "This scruffy, wild bunch of kids won't last long."
Betcha that asshole critic has been six feet under fertilizing the grass for some time now. HAH! And our boys are still with us, save the always-fragile genius, Brian.
48 years later I am still in love with them. Simply the best.
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