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Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Frisell showing his preference for playing to the band rather than the audience

Frisell ~ Stewart ~ Daisey ~ Jagger

An invite to the Stones' October 30 Key Arena concert sends me into a tizzy.

keith richardMon Dieu! Sir Mick et crew - only 42 years between concerts.

The last (and first) time I saw them live was in a grotty little club in Twickenham in the summer of 1963 - 15 years before my lithe October hostess was even born.

Playing Stones records was banned at school, which of course made it vital that Dave Greenhalgh and I meet up in the hols and check out one of their gigs.

Dave always sported one of those cool tousled non-haircuts, thanks to ignoring the school shearers and going into the village for a trim whenever his shagginess threatened to catch Head's eye in chapel. He got away with it because he was one of those all-round athletes who enjoyed approval from on high and untouchable hero status among the ranks. Any prefects who acted up found themselves mysteriously partnered opposite Dave in boxing practice or tackled with bruising ferocity on the rugger field.

I on the other hand defined the weediness of the solitary sulker, for which the punishment included a permanent shorn back 'n' sides look. This wasn't too bad during term time imprisonment, as one of 400 sporting the 'plucked chicken' look, but disastrous for any sort of girl chasing during the holidays or, in the case of "Operation Stones", passing oneself off as a fellow neanderthal in a rough south London boozer.

I still recall the energy and sheer *volume* of their sound - not to mention the dazed looks on every single bird in the place. I mean, forget which mere mortal they were with - when Mick started into 'Not Fade Away', he had the pick of any of the swooning Marianne Faithful lookalikes, and probably did, lucky swine.

Anyway, a lot of water been passed since then ... what am I up to these days?

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