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Name: pkg
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Subject: RE: Some Thoughts on the Vet
Date: Thursday, September 19, 2002
Time: 4:47:36 PM
Remote Address: 159.91.64.1
Message ID: 38197
Parent ID: 38158
Thread ID: 38158

RE: Some Thoughts on the Vet

I'm a little more together after the show at the Vet than I was after the show at the Aragon, but then I'm still not over the Aragon, so I'm really not together at all. But I gots to babble some abouts this here BAND!

To me, the world becomes a very, very tragic place when a Stones show ends. Few things make me as blue. I know, in a violent world that's a truly hideous statement. But I guess suffering is hideously relative, we're all hungry little rats trapped in the old subjective cage, and I will say here what I will say nowhere else--I kinda hurt when I'm no longer in the same room with that noise they pound out. I don't care how big the room is. The Vet weren't no Aragon, true. Mick's ass wasn't literally a foot from my face. I wasn't living with the reality that I could squeeze his calf if I had the nerve. Or at least brush his, sigh, pant leg. Yeah, yeah, yeah, they're just people. But they're the only people on earth I really don't down deep believe that about. They aren't just people. Mick is sign, symbol, meaning, and meaninglessness. My favorite short hand for what's cool and sad and true in the world. I could more easily hang with Christ. I'd be far less amazed. I'm sure there's a diagnosis for this.

But anyhoo, I thought the sound at the Vet was a lot better than the Aragon. Apparently that's a very sad thing. Because apparently the sound was bad. I dunno. I guess I'm more of a cultural observer than musical? I thought they smoked. They were ragged at the Aragon. Fucking up all the time. Gloriously of course, but real rough. Bad acoustics? At the Vet they seemed tight. Granted, Keith turned the opening chords of the show into a Canadian goose honk instead of Brown Sugar, but not much else went oops. I really thought they transcended. Were humming. Clicking. The night was gorgeous. Just the big open sky, the moon, and the Stones, the other major nocturnal celestial objects.

I also thought the 40 Licks interpretation of the stadium show was unparalled. Just beautiful. None of the desperation of earlier stages to please please knock the crowd out. The petals/confetti were such blossoms. Such bittersweet cascades. The video screens gave you the views you needed to make the show meaningful but were not overwhelming. The images they played were either the Stones straight on or were surprising lovely. Moving. I loved the showers of sparks.

Oh, the Japanamation chick riding the pierced tongue wasn't exactly lovely, but it was, um, wonderfully wrong.

Which reminds me of Mick's mouth, which, of course, reminds me of Mick's pants. Here, to me, is one of the more crucial differences between the ballroom and the stadium: Mick did not actually touch his penis once at the Vet. I was researching this very carefully, though always with scientific disinterest. The Aragon found him actually outlining himself with his hand. This touch, no touch difference is perhaps no big deal, or it is perhaps the difference between heaven and hell, life and death. Hard to say. Mick's pants are philosophy, though. Of that I am sure. Oh, and Mick didn't smile as much at the big show. That, too, must be factored in. At the Aragon he was constantly trying not to smile in that I'm supposed to be ironic but this is so fun way of his.

What kept hitting me:

1)DAMN he's a generous performer.

He gets constant slack--too old, too slutty, too wrinkled, too knighted, too greedy, too desperate. What about the fact that he works his ass off to involve thousands of people in a cohesive moment? I mean, that's some sort of religious feat that. Everyone grooving. And he's the one running side to side to pull it off. To make sure you up there in row 1,000,000 don't feel lonely. Of course, yeah, there's ego involved. But there always is, and he satisfies his by bringing people together to dance and feel sexy and tough and young. The asshole.

Most egomaniacs get up on stage, stand there, and ask you to be moved. Or they stay home and beat their wives.

2) This band gets RIPPED for going on tour and playing the best rock songs ever banged out of thin freaking air? HUH? About what other art form is it OK to say, "Yeah, it's cool, but was it made yesterday????????????" And why is it that none of their new stuff is judged "relevent"? What is, say, Orbital relevent to? I agree that too much of their recent stuff is color by riff, insert dirty lyric here type laziness, but some of it is good. Real good. But no one will let it be. Why? I dunno. I think it's because, unlike, say Johnny Cash or Townes Van Zandt or the old bluesers who are somehow more than relevent, who are authentic, true cool...the Stones are, um, rich and successful and well-laid. So it must suck. It's gotta be just complacent poof. Hmm. Seemed to me that band was hungrier than any other I've seen. Seemed to me the Stones might just be more dangerous now than they ever were before. God knows it's OK for unknown young men to shout and be angry and carve the air with their testosterone until it rings. Not so for old men. Certainly not so for old rich powerful men. Maybe this, this not going gently into that good night is their greatest transgression.

I'll shut up now. Sorry.

I think I really like this band.

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