Caught in a time warp, they still dodder about trying to make us join in to celebrate a bygone age. It’s all about what once was because they stubbornly refuse to move into 21st century. They are stuck in a time warp. They sometimes admit they are not very good at what they do, are grumpy and often to each other, and act like a bunch of prima donnas caring little what anyone else thinks and spending enormous sums of money on nonsense that helps no one. Frankly, they have seen better days. They are past it.
Who? Ah, you thought I was talking about the elected members of Western Isles Council, didn’t you? Not this time. Why people will pay up to £400 to see the shoogly old codgers that are the Rolling Stones is a mystery to everyone – except maybe to the deluded people who continue to vote in some of our even more shoogly councillors.
The only one I ever really liked was Bill Wyman. He was quiet, enigmatic and did nothing to make me think that years of mega-decibels had reduced his brain to froth like some of his bandmates. Then he met a giggly schoolgirl called Mandy, sang Let’s Spend The Night Together to her and I promptly began to think Ronnie Wood should be on Mastermind.
Wyman is now 76. He is still cool and not as wrinkly as you would expect for what he’s been through. He got over his fondness for teenagers and now seems as surprised as the rest of us at the Stones’ enduring success. A while back, he admitted quite openly that they were not the best musicians. In fact, he said they were not even great musicians.
They were just better at putting on a high-energy show to hide the fact. Like Rylan on X Factor, you mean? No no no, absolutely not. These guys were in a different class but, yeah, exactly like that, actually. Of course, Wyman was saying it while in his 20-year huff with the other Stones – but he has always said it. Or at least he did until they got promised a fortune to all get back together and whoop it up to mark 50 years since starting out by horrendously ripping off their richest and most stupid fans with a low-energy show turned up loud.
In fact, the volume was so high no one could hear how they had changed the words. Mick did his best with I Can’t Get No Circulation. They also did an updated version of You Can’t Always Get What You Want, which many years ago one critic said reflected “the end of the overlong party that was the 1960s …”
Remember, they are pensioners which is why it is now You Can’t Always Chew What You Want. That’s right, you stick with the soup and custard, guys, and you’ll be fine. Party on, dudes.
Everyone is going on about Jagger at the O2. He was so slim. He was so young looking. He was so Jagger. In other words, he is suffering weight loss and is now painfully thin, has resorted to hair dye and cosmetic enhancements and still looks as glaikit as ever. Can’t be Botox, surely? Not with lips that huge already.
Jumping Jack Flash? Nah, more like Limping Jack Flush.
Still, we are getting on a bit ourselves but at least we still have our memories of the rock greats. There was the Stones, The Who and those other talented legends from Merseyside. What were they called again? Er, Frankie Goes To Holywood? No, earlier. Gerry and the Pacemakers? Nope. There was a guy with wee glasses. Oh, what was his name? They named a place after him. Was he Lenin? Leningrad? No, that’s not on the Mersey. Lennon Airport? John Lennon Airport, that’s it. Lennon and his mates were on the bottles. Wait. No, they were in the Beatles. Phew, I do get there in the end. Yeah, as I said, at least we have our memories.
However, despite their lives of excess, some rockers do still have the brainpower to recount their days at the top. Three members of these three great rock bands got together recently for a catch-up. After the inevitable talk of girls, Paul McCartney, Pete Townsend, and Mick Jagger discussed the gifts they had got over the last 50 years. McCartney told how a man came up to the farm when he and Linda were living on the Mull of Kintyre and presented him with a hand-carved wooden sculpture of himself. Lovely.
Then Townsend showed them a necklace with gold letters an inch high that spelled Tommy which was from a fan for composing the rock opera. They agreed it too was impressive. That was when Mick Jagger produced a small hard, stale lump of bread and said he got it after a concert in Algiers. Bemused, McCartney and Townsend and Peter said it was, er, nice. Sensing they were unimpressed, Mick explained: “I know, it’s only a Moroccan roll but I like it.”
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