GCML Newspaper Column 9-29-05
From The Geauga County Maple Leaf
Chardon, Ohio
"Granddads on Parade"
c. 2005 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
FROM WTAM – 1100: "Twenty years ago, they were breaking all the rules. Now, they’re just trying not to break a hip! For the last time, one more time, again… The Rolling Stones!"
Birthdays may sometimes lose their character in the middle of life. For children, they present an opportunity for celebration, and eating lots of cake! At the senior end of our earthly cycle, they also mark an achievement worthy of festivity. But for those who are in the midst of everything – these days can be little more than an odd diversion. Family nurture, career aspirations, home projects, and the unending march of time overwhelm all else. Focus on such a simple milestone can be lost.
For this writer, a more certain indicator of years gone by came with the September release of a new CD by The Rolling Stones. (‘A Bigger Bang’ / Virgin - 0946 3 30067 2 0) I ordered the disc almost as an afterthought. It was not something that would satisfy a fanatical craving. But in yonder days, the release of a Stones album was cause for immediate consumer action. Early works like ‘England’s Newest Hitmakers’ or ‘Out of Our Heads’ made me surrender disposable income with glee. ‘Aftermath’ and the experimental ‘Their Satanic Majesties Request’ entered my collection as treasured vinyl nuggets. Albums like ‘Let It Bleed’ or ‘Get Yer Ya-Ya’s Out’ were devoured with gusto. ‘Exile On Main Street’ evoked mystical, mojo spirits. ‘It’s Only Rock ‘n Roll’ was confident, and seamless. ‘Some Girls’ restored my faith in longevity. It had all the energy of a younger group’s vinyl debut. Eventually, ‘Steel Wheels’ again offered a revived sense of creative urgency. The band seemed able to outlive every era that passed.
Yet in the modern world, I had half-forgotten about this familiar bunch of stoic, rock veterans. In truth, The Stones had become more of an entertainment corporation than a true rock ‘n roll band. Real connection with the street-level artistry from which they developed was long gone. An occasional bit of Ron Wood’s solo work conjured that sort of bluesy vibe with joyful energy. But only the rebel posture of Keith Richards echoed their former glory. Mick Jagger had become a pathetic self-caricature, like Elvis at the end of his career. Rock itself seemed not to matter as it had before. Those who sang "Hope I die before I get old" had gone gray with passing years. Younger folk found video games and pro wrestling more fascinating than the pursuit of heroic musicianship. Our own generation had matured, and shifted focus. We continued to remember, but it was so long ago…
And then, they were back. THE ROLLING STONES. Grandfathers all, dripping with mildew, and leathery from road wear - yet glistening against the background of 21st-Century society. They arrived speaking in tongues that had not been uttered since long hair and denim covered the Earth. Geriatric ghosts of yonder glory, that had refused to embrace oblivion with sweet surrender. They were sold-out, weathered, bombastic, over-promoted, jaded, corporate, profit-rich, and anachronistic… but BACK!
CUE A SOUNDBITE FROM ‘START ME UP’ – An EMT readies his defibrillator (a device to restart a stalled heartbeat) as the song plays. He shouts "Clear!" and the gizmo makes a sound like something from Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory. Then the announcer continues. "YOU can win tickets to see The Stones in Columbus!"
After several lackluster, indifferent recordings, Jagger & Richards suddenly produced a disc of CONSEQUENCE. The opening chords of ‘Rough Justice’ seemed to light a creative bonfire that burned with intensity. Stylistic references to ‘Exile’ and ‘Sticky Fingers’ were plentiful. My first listening also evoked fond memories of ‘Jamming With Edward’ (an obscure session that featured Ry Cooder on slide guitar, and Nicky Hopkins on piano) or some of the vintage bootleg platters that appeared during their golden era. Somehow, the group had been able to artistically find their way home. With a brash detour toward lost horizons, they had rekindled the energy of another time.
A long-time friend wrote from New York with details of the new release and related promotions. He seemed overwhelmed by the naked business savvy of these seasoned rockers:
" Hey Rod… I was in NYC for about a week…I had gone down to the Village to check out record stores and such - ending up getting mostly import stuff… I saw the new Stones disc, but figured it could wait until I got home. I also saw all the old (Virgin) stuff repacked with outer slipcases with an American flag on it! I guess it's some American tour promo thingy - I haven't seen those… also, they had displays of the Stones in the windows of. . . Bloomingdale's!!?? YES, I'LL BUY THE RALPH LAUREN SWEATER, THAT BILL BLASS TIE, AND COULD I GET ‘A BIGGER BANG’ WITH THAT, TOO? Arrrggghh!!!"
Their promo for the start of Monday Night Football aroused similar confusion. Mick Jagger and the NFL… partners for the new millennium? On the screen, slick choppers rolled down a video highway as an announcer boasted of upcoming games. Music of the Glimmer Twins yowled with authority. "See it all on ABC in September!" It was easy to imagine that somewhere, the specter of Brian Jones was laughing over the irony of these erstwhile ‘bad boys’ being used in a business promotion.
The Stones of old were skillful at harnessing controversy to aid in promoting record sales. Their silly flirtations with mock-satanic forces are well known. Almost any sort of negative publicity seems to have elevated their commercial viability. Mick seemed to have revived this tactic with the sneering protest ‘My Sweet Neo Con.’ Internet watchdog Matt Drudge immediately pounced on the tune. But it seemed to receive little notice elsewhere. The track was buried amid other, more compelling works on ‘A Bigger Bang.’ (Strangely, the melody echoed ‘Everything’s Turning to Gold’ which was a b-side from the 1970’s.) Always politically astute, the band seemed to be striking a pose between opposition and commerce. As with Vietnam-Era anthem ‘Street Fighting Man’ the firm of Jagger & Richards displayed much ability to achieve divergent goals without wasted energy.
Also notable was the inclusion of songs that seemed to flow from Mick’s breakup with Jerri Hall (in 1999) and the pleasure-gone-stale of his numerous ventures into debauchery/infidelity/extra children/headline production. This introspective mood added a hint of lyrical maturity to their usual diet of cocky verbiage, and cheerful misogyny. Taken as a whole, the disc shows how an aging group of hipsters can evolve over time, while retaining their unique outlook on tuneful art.
Happily, the lasting glory of Rolling Stones recordings is contained not so much in philosophy, as in their sound. The expert distillation of early rock, blues, and country influences they evoke has unflagging appeal. On ‘Bang’ this Berry-esque, minimalist thrash is pure and direct. Whether hearing ‘Gimmie Shelter’ on 8-track tape in a yesteryear context… or ‘She Saw Me Coming’ from the Windows Media files in my computer… the legacy remains timeless.
So long as the mummified Keith Richards can hoist his guitar, and rubbery cohort Jagger can prance with arthritic steps across the stage, they will continue. Age be damned! Our world still needs The Rolling Stones.
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