Rolling Stones Cbus Review by Stones Fan Jim Hutter

Click here to read Stones review by non fan Pete Vogel

THE ROLLING STONES
Ohio Stadium
May 30, 2015

By Jim Hutter    

It is a rare occurrence when two iconic ‘60's rock bands play Columbus within two weeks of one another, but that is exactly what happened when The Who and The Rolling Stones came to town in late May.  Many would argue that both bands are far past their prime, with neither having made a genuinely great album in over 30 years.  Also, factor in that founding members of both bands are over 70 years of age, and it is easy to see why even the most ardent fan would have reservations about these British Invasion greats still touring 50 years after their initial breakthrough.  Still, how often do Central Ohio residents get to see these musical legends?  For that very reason, I made a pilgrimage to see The Rolling Stones play Ohio Stadium on May 30, 2015.

I admittedly prefer small nightclub performances to stadium shows, because I enjoy the intimacy of seeing musical performers as human beings.  Sitting in C-Deck of Ohio Stadium, one could see the massive stage setup below.  It included gigantic video screens and a 100-foot runway for singer Mick Jagger to strut his stuff.  With his 72nd birthday rapidly approaching, would Jagger still have the athletic prowess to grace us with his fleet feet and soulful shouting?  The answer came pretty quickly, and it was a very pleasant surprise.

After much fanfare of overblown theme music and a photo montage on the giant television monitors, Ohio Stadium was graced with the sound of Keith Richards pounding out the opening chords of “Jumping’ Jack Flash.”  Jagger leapt to the occasion, dancing down the runway like a junior James Brown while belting some fine British blues.  Close-ups of the singer on the video screens were revealing.  While Jagger possesses an appropriately craggy countenance, his trim build and visible six-pack abs are stunning.  He would be considered in great shape for a man 40 years his junior. The man still has it!

Next in line was a rousing take of “It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll (But I Like It).”  If anything, this song is anthemic.  With a seventies-centered set list, the song is symbolic of everything The Rolling Stones stood for during that decade.  Self-indulgent lifestyles aside, the band’s music remained unpretentious, raw, and blues-based.  Jagger & Richards never attempted to write profound or poetic songs, nor did their music ever take itself too seriously.  Instead, The Stones have lived up to the self-fulfilling prophecy of this song for over 40 years.  God bless them for it!

Admittedly, there was a bit of pandering to audience expectations.  Recognizing that he was in the heart of Ohio, Mick Jagger led the audience in a sing-along of “Hang on, Sloopy.”  It was calculated and corny, but not out of character for The Rolling Stones.  Just remember that the original band cut their teeth by almost exclusively recording American rhythm and blues covers.  “Sloopy” was cut from this same cloth.

Some pleasant surprises from the Brian Jones era were in store.  First was the 1967 hit “Let’s Spend the Night Together.”  It was beautifully driven by sideman Chuck Leavell’s boogie piano and Charlie Watts’ four beats-to-the-bar drumming.  Charlie was awfully good tonight - not unlike Mick Jagger’s observation on the 1970 live album, “Get Yer Ya Ya’s Out.”

After rocking “Tumbling Dice” into “Doom and Gloom,” the band swaggered out with the horn-driven “Bitch.”  On this tour, the soulful saxophones were provided by Karl Denson and Tim Reis, who have replaced the recently-departed Bobby Keyes.  “Bitch” was one of three classics taken from the recently-reissued 1971 album, “Sticky Fingers.”  The others were “Wild Horses” and “Brown Sugar,” alternating melancholy with forceful lust.  Ron Wood handled the smooth Mick Taylor solos with warmth and grace.

Another visit to the British Invasion was “Paint It Black.”  It was somewhat surprising to see Ron Wood twanging away on an electric sitar, recreating the same licks played by Brian Jones in 1966.  Propelled by strip-club drums and theatrical organ, the sonic onslaught was no less thrilling than it was some 49 years ago.

After the Charlie Watts’ percussive punch of “Honky Tonk Women,” Keith Richards took center stage and intoned two of his classics, “Before They Make Me Run” and “Happy.”  At 71, the man does not look a day over 95 and rocks with more balls than many musicians under 30.  I am convinced he is the Human Cockroach and will outlive us all.

When Jagger returned to the stage, he launched into the 1968 drama piece, “Midnight Rambler.”  As the seasoned bluesman sang, “Did you hear about the Boston Strangler,” Charlie Watts laid down one of his exploding floor tom attacks.  An avid fan in the audience could be heard exclaiming, “Goddamn!” with timing perfectly matching the tempo on “Get Yer Ya Ya’s Out.”  It was a perfect complement to a near-perfect song.

The band paid homage to the disco years with a funky “Miss You” from the 1978 classic Some Girls.  Sideman Darryl Jones, who has been with Stones for over 22 years, laid down the perfect slapped bass line as he joked and jostled with Keith Richards.  Why isn’t he considered a full-fledged band member?  He is truly amazing on the four-string and deserves to be considered the proper successor to Bill Wyman.

A highlight of the night was “Gimme Shelter.”  As backing vocalist Lisa Fischer broke away from her harmony partner Bernard Fowler, she stole the show by taking the runway and belting the female vocal solo in a manner that was equal parts angelic gospel and Aretha Franklin soulful.  Ms. Fischer received a well-deserved standing ovation.

As fireworks exploded from behind the stage, Mick, Keef, Charlie, and Woody charged forward with “Start Me Up.”  The pyrotechnics continued with “Sympathy for the Devil.”  With hellfire projected onto the video screens, Jagger crooned the tale of ol’ Beelzebub while donning a crimson feather boa.  Keith recreated his dirty slide guitar solo with menace.  The performance was almost frightening.

“Brown Sugar” - with prerequisite out-of-tune Keith Richards’ chording - closed the main set.  The first encore was “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” augmented by members of The Ohio University Chorale.  The prim & proper choir beautifully contrasted with the dirt and grit of “The World’s Greatest Rock Band.”

Our gentlemen of distinction closed down the night with their 50-year-old signature song, “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.”  While some would argue that their performance was a clichéd self-parody, there was no doubting the “satisfying” effect upon the crowd.  While the performance was rawer and featured more sophisticated instrumentation than the original British Decca recording, it still sounded great, allowing Jagger, Richards, Watts, and Wood to go out on top.

Much like The Who, The Rolling Stones know very well that their best days are behind them, but they still know how to put on one amazing show.  Wishing for the impossible, it would have been great to see them in 1965, 1969, 1972, or 1978, but I will gladly take 2015.  It was that good.

Rolling Stones Cbus Concert Review by Pete "I Am Not a Stones Fan" Vogel.

Reflections on The Rolling Stones Concert – 5/30/2015,  by Pete Vogel

I am not a fan of The Rolling Stones.

I do not own any of their albums.  I’ve never bought any of their singles.  I have no songs on I-tunes, nor have I ever downloaded any of them to my computer.  I’ve never seen the band live, nor have I ever intended to.  To me, The Rolling Stones were a weak, watered-down version of the Blues greats - a cheap, Caucasian version of Muddy Waters and BB King.

When I heard the band was coming to Ohio Stadium in May, I simply shrugged my shoulders.  “Who cares?” I thought.  My favorite band -The Who - was also coming in May and that ticket was a no-brainer.  The Who versus The Stones: to me it was no contest.  

Two days before the show I decided to pay homage to this historic British Invasion of Columbus by attending the event for - all things considered - nostalgia.  After all, I was a musician (playing at some capacity for nearly 30 years) and seeing The Stones was a rite of passage.  One had to - at the very least - pay homage to the staying power of a band like The Stones, who’d been performing for over fifty years.  I figured it was my duty - kind of like attending the nightclub act of a beloved go-go dancer who was well past her prime.  I was going out of respect more than anything else.  So be it.  

To be honest, I wasn’t particularly keen on attending the show.  I’ve never been a fan of the blues and surely didn’t want to watch an American export being imported from England.  This was OUR music, after all - the Delta Blues originated from Louisiana and thought it shouldn’t be bastardized by a bunch of Brit hooligans.  There was also another reason for my ambivalence: Growing up a rabid Quadrophenia fan, and learning about the clash between Mods and Rockers from that album, I wanted to honor the loyal, middle-aged Mod within me.  The Who was your quintessential Mod band; The Stones your consummate Rocker band.  How could a Who fan attend a Stones gig with a clear conscience?  This was like rooting for Ohio State AND Michigan at the same time - I didn’t want to be a hypocrite.  But my pride took a back seat to nostalgia - I figured if I could catch The Stones for $50, I’d pull the trigger.  My Who ticket cost $60 and - on principle -I didn’t want to spend MORE money on The Stones than The Who.  No brainer.

The day of the show my former college roommate - Mark Allen - had two extra tickets and was gracious enough to sell me an $89 ticket for $60.  (I should’ve offered him $59.)  The other ticket went to a mutual friend of ours - Ben Arnold - so it would be nice to sit with a friend, musician and Stones fan; he could fill me in on all the crappy tunes I wasn’t familiar with.  

We treated the event like an OSU game: We parked our car three hours prior; set up tents and lawn chairs; brought sandwiches, snacks and beverages and tailgated like a typical football Saturday.  Rain fell hard for about twenty minutes, but the skies cleared and by nightfall it was brisk, cool and comfortable in the heartland.    

The Stones took the stage around 9:30pm to a thunderous roar from its fans - it was as if everyone had been bottling up this energy for decades.  Ben and I took our seats in section 3A - directly opposite from the stage - as the first few chords of “Jumpin Jack Flash” came thundering through the enormous sound system.  It looked and sounded fantastic; OSU Stadium was totally rocking.  

The Stones played hit after hit to a raucous crowd of 60,000 adoring fans, and with every tune the crowd got louder and louder.  After the fourth song Mick got on the mic and said: “We’re in the stadium of CHAMPIONS!” - referring to OSU’s National Championship season in football.  After that, the band did something rare: they played a rendition of “Hang On Sloopy” - an OSU staple that had recently become the State of Ohio’s “Official Song.” 

(To me, watching this iconic British rock group pay homage to a state AND a university by playing its theme song was truly remarkable.  The rest of the country thought so as well - NBC Nightly News covered this moment in its national broadcast the following night.  It was mind blowing: a world-famous rock band from England covered a tune by an obscure, one-hit-wonder act from Ohio.  Truly incredible.)

The surprises didn’t end there.  With 60,000 fans roaring their approval, Mick Jagger pranced from sideline to sideline like the consummate rock star.  Dancing, singing, playing guitar, backing up and leading off, Jagger was a dynamo of energy and passion.  We all forgot that the average age of this band was the same age as our deceased grandparents.

Then something truly amazing happened - it’s something I’d rarely experienced at a show before.  Jagger grabbed his harmonica and began the opening salvo of “Midnight Rambler.”  I was awestruck - I’d no idea he was that accomplished on harp.  After his opening salvo, he sang the first verse and chorus then pranced around with his usual swagger.  As the band went into an extended jam, Jagger removed his maroon jacket, threw it to the stage floor and went into a primal dance that shook me to the core.  I could tell he had channeled something deep and mysterious within him - it was completely unrehearsed and spontaneous, as if he was lost in the moment and truly forgot where he was.  I’d seen this kind of “out of body experience” from time to time in smaller venues, but not a packed stadium.  It was as if he was whisked back to his youth and pranced around like he was still in his London flat, hearing the song for the first time.  The crowd rose to its feet in approval. 

Watching that Jagger dance was like watching Hank Aaron’s 715th.  Or Jordan’s jump shot.  Or Tyson’s left hook.  Or Mary Lou’s perfect 10.  It was a thing of beauty, roused by a fire that eluded most of us.  A 71-year-old man had just reversed the numbers and became 17 in an instant.  This mysterious, musical fountain of youth had overtaken this grandfatherly figure and turned him into a teenager again.  And everyone in the audience became 17 again from watching the mysterious moves of Mick Jagger.  

It was then that I finally understood what The Rolling Stones was about.  It was about passion.  It was about singing and dancing your troubles away.  It was about shouting words and sounds at the top of your lungs along with 60,000 other souls.  It was about the mystery and power of the rock concert, and the mystery and power of a rock song.  For years I’d dismissed them as a second-rate blues act with nothing original to say; now I got to see them with my own two eyes and witness what the rest of the world already knew.  Well done, gentlemen.

This was living history, after all—in our own backyard.  Columbus, Ohio was a town that rarely saw big acts come through its gates, yet in 2015 we got to witness two of its greatest invade the city - only 15 days apart.  Another iconic Briton - Eric Clapton - even owns a home here.  Columbus has suddenly become a prime target on the rock-and-roll map, and I couldn’t be more proud of this loveable little cowtown.  

This got me thinking about something else.  It dawned on me why bands like The Stones and The Who can still draw massive crowds after 50 years.  Something remarkable happened in Britain in the early '60s - it totally transformed the world with its genius.  A “Golden Age” of Rock and Roll evolved out of the miasma of bland, polite pop rock.  The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Cream, The Yardbirds, Moody Blues, Electric Light Orchestra, Pink Floyd, Genesis, Yes, Deep Purple, The Kinks, King Crimson - and many others that currently evade my memory - inspired an entire revolution through their creativity and innovation.  These bands transformed the world through their imaginations, channeling the misery of being born during (or directly after) World War II into something positive and hopeful.  Something miraculous took place after the war in Britain - it spawned a creative renaissance that rose from that tiny island after it was nearly destroyed by German bombs.  And fifty years later, those same musicians who represented that Golden Age are alive and kicking - in various incarnations - sharing their passion with the world who love them dearly for it.

We can’t thank you enough for that wonderful gift.

PS. I’m still not going to waste my money on a bloody Stones record, though. - Pete Vogel

Click here for the Stones setlist at the Shoe

Click here to read "Reflections on The Who Turning 50" by Pete Vogel 

Ohio Stadium, Columbus, OH May 30, 2015

State of Green Indiegogo Campaign Almost Over. Check it Out!

As a rule, we tend to shy away from crowdfunding campaigns as there are a zillion currently in progress and we don't have any money anyway. Once we mocked one, "Sammy Hagar's Kid and the Dark Side of Crowd Funding" and we once endorsed the "Who Is Lydia Loveless?" campaign.

So here comes #3. Why, you ask? Adam Rich has been a friend of Watershed for over two decades and his campaign seemed so heartfelt and reasonable it was worth a mention. Please give it a look and help him reach his $600 goal.

Click here to check out "It's All About the Smiles: State of Green DVD Indiegogo campaign. It ends in two days so the clock is ticking.

In 1996, we got the chance to open for Columbus, Ohio based Watershed who had been signed to Epic Records and were supporting their debut full length CD "Twister". Several month after the gig, we added one of their songs, You Need Me, as one of the covers we sometimes played.

"50 Tracks That Tell the Story of the Stones" on the Rock and Roll Book Club Podcast

It's about 24 hours until The Rolling Stones take the stage in Columbus, OH. So if you haven't read 'Rocks Off: 50 Tracks That Tell the Story of the Stones' by now, it probably ain't happening. No worries, our pals at the Rock and Roll Book Club have you covered as they review and discuss this excellent Stones book written by Bill Janovitz. Click the link below and get your head crammed full of good Stones knowledge to get you primed for the show. 

Do yourself a favor and click here to give it a listen. on the excellent Rock and Roll Book Club Podcast.     

And click here for the best Rolling Stones story ever. Promise.

Attempted Suicide Stopped by the Rolling Stones. Listen to Ricki C. Tell the True Story on 614Cast

Hey gang, Colin here. As I've said many times, Ricki C. is my favorite rock n roll storyteller. In my humble opinion, everything he posts on Pencilstorm is pure gold, as good as any rock story you will read in ANY publication. But of all his great writings, I think his essay, "The Bathtub" could be on the short list of greatest rock stories ever told. It originally appeared on his old MySpace page, and in his former blog "Growing Old with Rock n Roll" and then Joe Oestreich made sure it was published in the footnotes/index to his acclaimed Watershed memoir, "Hitless Wonder - A Life in Minor League Rock n Roll". (In fact, just the footnotes to Joe's book are better than Butch Walker's actual books. Seriously, thumb through a copy and prove me wrong.)

Anyway, with the Rolling Stones coming to town, we decided to team up with the very cool and new Six One Four Podcast so Ricki C. could tell the story of "The Bathtub" himself. Please do yourself a favor and give it a listen. I promise you'll be glad you did.

Click Here to listen to Colin and Ricki C. telling the story of "The Bathtub" on the 614Cast. They start at the 27 minute mark after the excellent Eric Davidson interview. 

The Bathtub by Ricki C.

I was 13 years old in October 1965.  Eighth grade just was not working out.  I had been a shy, book-reading child, now hormones were kicking in.  I loved rock & roll but I just knew I was NEVER going to know how to talk to girls.  (This was years before I got a hold of a guitar.)  One really bad Saturday night I decided to kill myself.  I had it all worked out.  I’d seen a movie just that week about a guy getting electrocuted when a radio fell into the bathtub he was in.  (I was a very impressionable child.)

After everybody had left for the evening (my mom and dad were working their second jobs, my sister was on a date, my brother was at the bar) I went around the house and found a radio with a cord long enough to reach the bathtub.  I ran the bath, plugged in the radio, settled into the warm water, said a little prayer for forgiveness, and let the radio drop.  What I hadn't factored in was that although the cord was long enough to reach the tub, I hadn't filled it full enough.  Right when the radio hit the water the plug pulled out.  I got a nasty shock, I was seeing big purple and black blobs in my field of vision, but it didn't kill me.

I lifted the radio out and laid there in the water a few minutes to let my head clear.  I got out and ran some more water in the tub until I was certain I had the right water level for the job at hand.  I plugged the radio back in and what was playing?  "Get Off My Cloud" by The Rolling Stones.  I stood there naked – dripping & chilly, eighth-grade skinny – and listened to the entire song.  Right at that moment I quite literally loved that song more than I loved life itself.  And then a thought came very clearly into my head: "What if the next Rolling Stones single is even BETTER than this one, and I never get to hear it?"

I set the radio down on the sink, got back in the tub, took a bath and went to bed.  If "Danke Schoen" by Wayne Newton or "Roses Are Red" by Bobby Vinton had been playing at the moment I plugged that radio back in I'd be dead now.  Long live The Rolling Stones.  So began a life of rock & roll.  Thanks Mick, Keith, Brian, Bill & Charlie.

© 2005 Ricki C.

Reflections on The Who Turning 50 by Pete Vogel

Listening to you / I get the music

Gazing at you / I get the heat

Following You / I climb the mountain

I get excitement at your feet

- Tommy (1969)

These four lines pretty much sum up my feelings about The Who as they celebrate their fifth decade in the music industry. From the first time I heard them back in 1978, to the 50th anniversary concert that took place 5/15/15 in Columbus, I am continually reminded of their genius, their passion and their relevance.

As a middle-aged musician—I’m as old as the band—who still struggles in the “minor leagues” (to borrow a phrase from Joe Oestreich) these four lines are passages that I revert to whenever I’ve “lost my way” in this ever-changing, ever-frustrating music biz. These lines are a reminder of why I still do what I do, even though sometimes it feels like it’s in vain.

Pete Townshend was very different than most songwriters coming out of UK in the mid-60s. While his peers were penning songs about teenage love and girls named Angie, Townshend was writing tunes like “The Seeker.” While his contemporaries were writing political and folksy songs about Vietnam, he was penning operas about pinball wizards. Townshend was—and still is—in a class by himself. He took a look at the state of the world in his era and got “in tune with the straight and narrow.” As he penned in his song “Pure and Easy”: “There once was a note / Pure and easy / Playing so free / Like a breath, rippling by.”

For those who craved more meaning to life than suburban sporting events, pop music and movies approved by The Catholic Times, The Who represented a shift from this stifling worldview and expanded hearts and minds to embrace a faith in something bigger. That’s what drew me to them in the first place—they re-examined spirituality in general and how it related to manhood in particular. For males reared in the 60s and 70s, with the specter of Vietnam ever present in their psyche, The Who paved the way for a new vision of what it meant to be a man: “Imagine a man / Not a child of any revolt / But a plain man tied up in life.”

Having grown up in a patriarchal family—with a father who was influenced by no-nonsense role models like Woody Hayes and Bobby Knight—The Who taught me about the softer, gentler side of manhood, what Rabbi Michael Lerner calls “The Left Hand of God.” The Who showed me that you don’t have to be a bully, brute or jerk to get your way in the world, perhaps love can truly reign over everything.

While it’s true that The Who is considered a “masculine” group—and have always appealed to men more than women—the Daltrey/Townshend duo are, to me, the Yin/Yang balance of masculine and feminine energies. Daltrey’s rugged voice and hardscrabble working class persona, coupled with Townshend’s meek tenor and art-school upbringing, address the duality between testosterone-laced impulsivity and feminine reflection. We see this played out so brilliantly in Quadrophenia, the rock opera about the conflicting desires within its main character, Jimmy, who wanted to be both a lover AND fighter for the Mod cause. He realized, at the end of his journey, he had to decide between the two—he couldn’t be both. Would love reign, or would he seek to be the Ace Face?

The Who has always struck a beautiful balance with its frontmen, and it’s a marriage that hasn’t been lost on its fans. Whether it’s expressed in the raw emotion of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” or the melancholic sensibilities of “I’m One” we’ve come to realize that we’re all Jimmy: straddling the fence between selfish, violent whims and the desire to transcend it all.

As for the show last Friday (sadly, they didn’t pay homage to 5/15 by playing that song) it was thrilling to see the band—or at least half of them—perform in front of 20,000 screaming fans at their respective ages of 69 (Townshend) and 70 (Daltrey). Sure, there was a stoop in their walk, and they both wore sunglasses that looked more like bifocals than hipster specs, but their passion was still intact. They started off the show with their seminal, 50-year-old classic “I Can’t Explain” and didn’t let the foot off the gas until the final crescendo of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” two hours later. Most of us walked away with a feeling of awe and respect—they obviously still “got it.” Even those who didn’t enjoy the show (my friend’s son said: “It would’ve been cool to see them in the 70s”) they still left the venue with an understanding of what made The Who special for so many years. Fifty years, in fact. Half a century. Playing music to millions of fans. Still. To me, for The Who to generate that level of enthusiasm—as they approached their seventh decade on the planet—is nothing short of miraculous.

The music business has changed dramatically since The Who first stepped onstage in 1965; Townshend professed this inevitability in his ditty “Music Must Change.” But I wonder if he foresaw the events that are taking place today? The industry has become—more or less—a diaspora of the talent pool and a dumbing down of the medium. Steady radio play featuring new talent has all but disappeared—Clear Channel saw to that. The Internet has generated tens of thousands of new bands, yet it’s impossible to keep track of them. Youtube, Facebook and Soundcloud have created a mass market for songwriting but it’s now a free indulgence—royalties have all but disappeared. Ironically, it’s harder to make money in this ubiquitous industry because competition is stiff, the market is endless and opportunities are widespread. There are too many venues, too many bands, and not enough paying audiences. In fact, nobody wants to pay for music anymore—it’s expected to be free. Artists hand out their CDs like business cards.

It’s nearly impossible for an original, modern act in the spirit of The Who to come close to selling out a Nationwide Arena at $100 a pop—unless your name is Swift, Timberlake or Spears. And you won’t hear songs like “Join Together” or “A Quick One” at these shows either—one can’t afford to take those kinds of risks in the digital age.

As a musician I sometimes despair over the state of our medium. It seems like the least original, least inspiring and least talented acts have risen to the top while the rest of us struggle in the minors. It saddens me that some of the most talented, original, and inspiring acts in this town are playing to fifteen people at a local bar for five bucks a head. It saddens me that a whole generation of folks will grow up in a world where Nicki Minaj is regarded a “viral success.”

That’s when I crank up Tommy as loud as I can and chant those four lines, over and over and over again. Rock is dead. Long live rock.  Pete Vogel 5/16/15

Pete Vogel is an accomplished artist, educator, and musician. He also wrote and directed the documentary "Indie". Learn more by clicking here,