I’ve cracked.
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After two months of telling myself they were too expensive, that I didn’t really want to go and that I’ve seen them twice before, I relented and added a lazy $520 or so to take my wife and I to the Stones concert at Hope Estate on November 15.
And now, surveying my position from the narrow strip of ‘‘premium general admission’’ grass – in front of the Great Unwashed at $160 or so but behind the booked seats at either $380 or $587 each – I’m thinking I may as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, and cough up a bit more for the Mick, Keith, Charlie and Ron Retirement Fund.
But then again, how much more money do they need?
When I saw them at Don Valley Stadium, Sheffield, on June 6, 1999, the tickets were £30 each, whether you were under the stage or up in the bleachers. On a stormy night with the entire stadium bathed in reefer smoke, it was a surreal experience, especially when the band popped up at the back of the ground – Bridges To Babylon was the first tour where they used the now-standard small B-stage – and played Dylan’s Like A Rolling Stone as the rain tumbled down.
Sheryl Crow did the support spot and came back on stage for Honkey Tonk Women. It was a great night, full of English bonhomie as everyone from grey-haired grannies to hip young school kids got their Rocks Off.
Sydney, on April 11, 2006, at the Homebush stadium, was another memorable gig, but an unfortunate double booking saw the Stones clash with a reunion of the NSW police sniffer dog association.
At the front gates, you couldn’t move for blue boiler suits and German shepherds, as if the constabulary thought it was 1967 and they were London bobbies on an historical re-enactment of the infamous Redlands bust at Keith’s house at West Wittering, Sussex.
Talk about breaking a butterfly on a wheel!
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But the pre-show searches were forgotten once Keith laid into Jumpin’ Jack Flash amid a blaze of stage-side fireworks.
That night, Mick was a few months short of 63, and Charlie had been treated for throat cancer diagnosed two years earlier in 2004.
Despite the toll of the years, the original three plus Woody – a Stone since 1975 – sounded as dramatic and defiant as ever, eternal teenagers at pension age.
So what should we expect next month?
Well, Charlie is 73. Mick’s 71. Keith turns 71 on December 18. Ronnie, at 67, is the baby Stone. Original bassist, Bill Wyman, who quit in 1993, turns 78 this month. Only Brian Jones, who put the band together, remains untouched by age, having drowned in his swimming pool in 1969, aged 27. Increasingly unable to cope with the fame he craved, Jones lost his girlfriend, Anita Pallenberg, to Keith, and his sanity to addiction. Ironically, Jones’ departure and his replacement by Mick Taylor – who left in turn to be replaced by Woody – coincided with the band’s creative peak.
With producer (and drummer) Jimmy Miller in charge of recording, the Stones reeled off Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main Street and Goat’s Head Soup between 1968 and 1973.
Like a lot of original rock acts, the Stones had a hard time of it in the 80s. But the Stones of 14 On Fire are beyond fashion. A combination of (relative) sobriety, crystal-clear stadium sound and giant video screens mean the 21st century version of the world’s greatest rock and roll band is as compelling as ever.
Saturday night’s opening Adelaide show carried on with the set list used in Europe in July. Keith sang Happy and Can’t Be Seen and Taylor joined in on Midnight Rambler and Satisfaction.
It will never be 1969 again. But Mick at 71 is still an iconic simulacrum of the androgynous shadow whose leering menace lit the stage – and freaked out the establishment – all those years ago. With an estimated net worth of $400million each, Sir Michael and Keith have lived almost all of their lives as the archetypal jet-setting rock stars.
While a subsequent tour is theoretically possible, I’m pretty sure that This Will Be The Last Time. At least in Oz.
And as we count down to the show, I’ll be getting into the mood by reminding my neighbours what a great album Get Yer Ya Ya’s Out was, and I’ll follow the instructions on Let It Bleed: ‘‘This record should be played loud’’.