I saw the “way more desiccated Don Knotts” at the Rose Bowl in 2019, when Charlie was still alive, and those British Invasion Raisins put on a barnburner of a show, like how evangelicals must feel on Easter Sunday at the megachurch. I think they slipped past their “going through the motions” period into their “hot damn we still get to do this” era with some measure of grace, wisdom, aplomb and genuine effort on their parts. Hell, we’re all most of us old farts at this point, so I find dedication past desiccation contains a hint of inspiration.
For a little more historical context, in the summer & fall of 89 I finally got to see two bands I had wanted to see for a very long time. The Who & the Stones both played the Oakland Coliseum. Had great seats on the green for both. For Who tix, I paid the outrageous ticket agent price of $50 each. Stones were $25-30 with no agent.
For The Who performance, every song was amazing & I could not believe those old men rocked that hard that long.
For the Stones, the "desiccated version of Don Knotts" was the singer & it seemed like they rolled out a barely functional animatronic carcuss that looked like Keith Richard, although Ron Wood played lead well. Sadly, unlike The Who, only a few songs like Angie were amazing. I heard they were much better the second night. 🤷♂️
I once had a dream that I won a date with Mick Jagger and he showed up at our suburban family home in a Dodge custom van and I thought, my dad isn't gonna like this.
He really was at one time the stuff that dreams are made of...
Hilarious intro! If only the young knew what a brilliant comparison a “desiccated Don Knotts” is. He and Jerry Hall were over when he decided she was “an old spoon and he needed a new spoon.” Does seem impossible for the ‘70s type of decadence to recur.
Do the kids of today want to let go, but can't? Or they've seen the trash-bags of the pervious generations and said "no way". But who doesn't want to be a trash-bag and live a little???
A classic essay on pop culture; the phrase “weepy orgies” should be trademarked for its brilliance!
When we were talking last month and you asked about the music style on the upcoming album, I should’ve deadpanned “cock rock” but I could never have said that with a straight face!
I will always love The Velvet Underground more than The Rolling Stones. But I have always favored the cadaverous over the luminous. “Why Mick Jagger?” I often pondered in high school. Now I regret not seeing them in the 70s when I could have and had the energy….
I have listened to the Stones since cradle days and like their music, but I never really understood this whole Mick-as Sex-God thing. Then I saw "The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus" where, even though the Stones didn't release this movie for almost 30 years because they thought their performance was "substandard", I understood. The 1968 Mick, even in his exhausted and probably doped-up condition, had that crazy thing where some people just exude sexual magnetism all over the screen. It's uncanny when you see the real thing. Also, the rest of the movie is a pretty amazing artifact, and Marianne Faithfull's performance shows that she had the same preternatural glow. When you watch it you'll understand why half the rock stars of the day were in love with her. Also, Lennon, Clapton, The Who, etc. are in it when they were just kids, practically.
I always thought the apex of civilization was Marianne Faithfull and Keith Richards riding a chauffeured Bentley to Morocco to reconvene their various relationships with Mick and Anita Palllenberg (Keith's lady), who were there shooting the Nicholas Roeg film "Performance." Marianne and Keith did heroin and fucked in the Bentley the whole ride over. The Bentley was upholstered in lynx fur. Nobody has lived that well before or since.
Jagger wrote ironic lyrics. I learned the phrase "ironic distancing" reading a Rolling Stone piece about 15 years of the Rolling Stones in 1977. Otherwise everything is perfectly correct!
Many years ago, an acquaintance (“Ava”)was making out with Mick Jagger in his hotel room after a gig when Mick’s daughter knocked on the door.
Mick folded Ava’s body under the bed, as if she were just another accessory from his last appearance. She spent the next hour and a half sweating it out and trying not to move as Mick indulged in a drawn out casual conversation with his daughter.
When his daughter finally exited the bedroom, she struggled to get out from the hiding place. Mick offered no explanation, though he did assume he could pick up where they’d left off.
Mick didn’t ask if she was OK or show any trace of remorse as Ava wandered out into the bright hallway feeling humiliated.
I saw the “way more desiccated Don Knotts” at the Rose Bowl in 2019, when Charlie was still alive, and those British Invasion Raisins put on a barnburner of a show, like how evangelicals must feel on Easter Sunday at the megachurch. I think they slipped past their “going through the motions” period into their “hot damn we still get to do this” era with some measure of grace, wisdom, aplomb and genuine effort on their parts. Hell, we’re all most of us old farts at this point, so I find dedication past desiccation contains a hint of inspiration.
I agree with you now. I wrote that piece in 1998 when I thought I’d be 30 forever.
For a little more historical context, in the summer & fall of 89 I finally got to see two bands I had wanted to see for a very long time. The Who & the Stones both played the Oakland Coliseum. Had great seats on the green for both. For Who tix, I paid the outrageous ticket agent price of $50 each. Stones were $25-30 with no agent.
For The Who performance, every song was amazing & I could not believe those old men rocked that hard that long.
For the Stones, the "desiccated version of Don Knotts" was the singer & it seemed like they rolled out a barely functional animatronic carcuss that looked like Keith Richard, although Ron Wood played lead well. Sadly, unlike The Who, only a few songs like Angie were amazing. I heard they were much better the second night. 🤷♂️
I still envy you.
I should have invited you. My bad!
I saw that tour of The Stones in Cleveland and they blew the roof off! So sorry your show was a dud.
It wasn't a dud. They just didn't hold a candle to The Who nailing every song.
I once had a dream that I won a date with Mick Jagger and he showed up at our suburban family home in a Dodge custom van and I thought, my dad isn't gonna like this.
He really was at one time the stuff that dreams are made of...
Hilarious intro! If only the young knew what a brilliant comparison a “desiccated Don Knotts” is. He and Jerry Hall were over when he decided she was “an old spoon and he needed a new spoon.” Does seem impossible for the ‘70s type of decadence to recur.
Love your painting!
Do the kids of today want to let go, but can't? Or they've seen the trash-bags of the pervious generations and said "no way". But who doesn't want to be a trash-bag and live a little???
That article was sounds like it was written for our times! NOW not 1998. Put that in your next anthology!
Right? The kids are so dull!
A classic essay on pop culture; the phrase “weepy orgies” should be trademarked for its brilliance!
When we were talking last month and you asked about the music style on the upcoming album, I should’ve deadpanned “cock rock” but I could never have said that with a straight face!
Hahahahahahha
I will always love The Velvet Underground more than The Rolling Stones. But I have always favored the cadaverous over the luminous. “Why Mick Jagger?” I often pondered in high school. Now I regret not seeing them in the 70s when I could have and had the energy….
Me 3
Lester Bangs, the Stones, RHCP, Lou Reed, Patti and Sam, i mean this shit has more than a few of my favorite thi gs 😇😉🤗
I have listened to the Stones since cradle days and like their music, but I never really understood this whole Mick-as Sex-God thing. Then I saw "The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll Circus" where, even though the Stones didn't release this movie for almost 30 years because they thought their performance was "substandard", I understood. The 1968 Mick, even in his exhausted and probably doped-up condition, had that crazy thing where some people just exude sexual magnetism all over the screen. It's uncanny when you see the real thing. Also, the rest of the movie is a pretty amazing artifact, and Marianne Faithfull's performance shows that she had the same preternatural glow. When you watch it you'll understand why half the rock stars of the day were in love with her. Also, Lennon, Clapton, The Who, etc. are in it when they were just kids, practically.
I always thought the apex of civilization was Marianne Faithfull and Keith Richards riding a chauffeured Bentley to Morocco to reconvene their various relationships with Mick and Anita Palllenberg (Keith's lady), who were there shooting the Nicholas Roeg film "Performance." Marianne and Keith did heroin and fucked in the Bentley the whole ride over. The Bentley was upholstered in lynx fur. Nobody has lived that well before or since.
Your painting of American Booty looks like Paul Stanley of KISS. I think you meant to do that. Naughty girl.
Jagger wrote ironic lyrics. I learned the phrase "ironic distancing" reading a Rolling Stone piece about 15 years of the Rolling Stones in 1977. Otherwise everything is perfectly correct!
i wasn't discussing the lyrics, but the dancing persona. Otherwise: thanks!
and Cintra,
This is brilliant!
Many years ago, an acquaintance (“Ava”)was making out with Mick Jagger in his hotel room after a gig when Mick’s daughter knocked on the door.
Mick folded Ava’s body under the bed, as if she were just another accessory from his last appearance. She spent the next hour and a half sweating it out and trying not to move as Mick indulged in a drawn out casual conversation with his daughter.
When his daughter finally exited the bedroom, she struggled to get out from the hiding place. Mick offered no explanation, though he did assume he could pick up where they’d left off.
Mick didn’t ask if she was OK or show any trace of remorse as Ava wandered out into the bright hallway feeling humiliated.