Monday, November 19, 2012

The Stones, Baby

I got some words about The Stones stewing and brewing. Been doing some research.

The wife turned me on to interviews conducted last week on NPR as part of the 50th anniversary. One per day - Keith, Charlie, Ronnie and Mick. Beautiful.

Tasty stuff. I listened to them all, got the feel, plugged into their individual vibes and hung on every word.

Watched Crossfire Hurricane last week on HBO, again, part of THE anniversary. Very cool.

Listened to the two brand new songs on the 50th anniversary album GRRR!

Dug them. I ain't no purist. I can listen to new Stones stuff and evolve right along with it. I hate the close minded of my generation who insist The Stones haven't done anything good since Exile On Main Street. You cannot be close minded about art. Art is alive. If you don't move with it you get left behind. I am not ready to get left behind.

So I have all these impressions in my head, all these images, all this music and I don't know what to do with it. I sat down last week and tried to write it all up and it came out f***ing boring. Terrible. I couldn't capture the emotion, the excitement, the myth and the beauty. So I held off.

This is a preliminary offering. Telling you, warning you, that I am all caught up in this 50th anniversary Stones thing. It is all up in my head, rolling around, percolating and expanding.

I might never write anything. How the hell do you capture The Stones in all their glory at this time, working in their history, anticipating the tour, wondering about the future.

They are giants.

As I wrote this I was listening to Sympathy For The Devil. Loudly. This is unusual for me. I need silence to write. But this seemed appropriate.

Time to cook supper. And, eventually, to cook up something about The World's Greatest Rock 'n Roll Band.

Ladies and gentlemen - I give you - The Rolling Stones.

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