A religious experience is the only way to describe seeing The Rolling Stones, with the band having achieved a divine miracle in surviving for the past 50 years. While the myths and stories surrounding the band are of biblical proportions, it’s their musical creations that’ll transcend their bags of bones. Their songs are responsible for turning so many potentially respectable citizens into drug-fuelled, sex-hungry maniacs who drew inspiration to make their own marks on the music world and for that we give thanks.
An elaborate stage design gave early-comers something to marvel over while comedian Chris Lilley was apparently bemusing drummer Charlie Watts backstage at his daughter’s invite. Shaped in the iconic Stone’s tongue and lips logo, the outline of the tongue acted as a semicircle catwalk surrounding the few people willing to put up the megabucks to be in the pit. As the lights dimmed, the arena felt like a vacuum as a collective heave of air was taken to stretch the lungs for the oncoming roar. From that moment, church was in as Keith Richards’ instantaneously recognisable opening riff of Jumpin’ Jack Flash sucked the frenzied air back into the cavernous room.
As soon as they hit the stage, time and space fused into one and my shit seemed lost forever. Serotonin and dopamine surged through my brain, harder than any drug effect has ever managed, causing my body to spasm and vision to blur from welling tears. I’m a grown-ass man but theywere rock‘n’roll in its purest form and I was close to an overdose.
That feeling lasted for the two hour long set as Mick Jagger traipsed on the catwalk throwing all his finest pouts and hand flourishes with microphone shoved down his pants. Richards and Ronnie Wood played funny buggers around the stage smoking suspicious ciggies with Watts calmly looking on. Ex-guitarist Mick Taylor made his appearance on Midnight Rambler with Jagger battling Taylor’s guitar with his harmonica as they advanced on one another eye-to-eye. Gimme Shelter let backup singer Lisa Fischer cut loose on the catwalk absolutely nailing the female vocal parts and pianist Chuck Leavell gave a lesson in bar room piano with his solo in Honky Tonk Women.
The crowd choice Street Fighting Man maybe threw Jagger a bit as he seemingly missed a few cues and Richards’ apparent unwillingness to finish Start Me Up made for a sloppy outro. Finishing on a double encore of You Can’t Always Get What You Want and Satisfaction, the congregation were farewelled by the prophets with a bow and a wave perhaps for the last time on this patch of the world.
BY RHYS MCRAE
Photo by Charles Newsbury
Loved: Charlie Watts pegging a security guard in the head with his drumstick from 30 metres.
Hated: Everything is amazing.
Drank: Holy water.
