I took my mom and sister to see the Rolling Stones last night at Alltel Arena, and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised at the level of energy these old guys put out. Mick Jagger is 63 years old and he’s still a bundle of angular electricity. Ronnie Wood and Keith Richards mosey around more slowly, but have still got the juice, defying all laws of human physiology. By all rights these men should be dead, and look as though they are, yet they continue moving. Perhaps a zombie curse keeps them alive, because they don’t appear to have aged much since the 1980’s. They’re apparently frozen in time, and skinny as the day they started playing guitar. Charlie Watts is the eldest and ironically looks the healthiest.
And they rocked. These old bastards have been playing arenas for 30 plus years, so they have more experience at it than anyone else. The new tunes sounded as good as the old ones, and the highlight was a cover of “(Night Time Is) The Right Time” by Ray Charles. I have a whole new respect for these cats. Lord knows they’re not on tour because they want money (they have more than anyone could spend); they do it because it’s what they love doing, and they’ll do it ’till they drop. Here’s to you, boys.
We also had a great deal of fun people-watching. A Stones show is a cavalcade of white people and their fashion atrocities. Many people just aren’t honest with themselves about what types of outfits work for them. And oh, the sad aging rock chicks. The ones with voices of ash, who still think drunkenness is a requirement and tight clothing a must, despite the hasty departure of all their sexual weaponry 20-odd years ago.