Shine On!

Grant Wentzel

So last night I ran off with these guys to see the new movie/doc “Shine A Light,” which if you don’t know, allows Martin Scorsese to say a big-ol’ “I Luv U” to the his childhood heroes, The Rolling Stones. It’s a one-night-only concert in NYC, interspersed with footage from the early decades of Stones history. The retrospective bits give a sense of scope and ensconce each member in their preordained niche. (Mad Keith, Enigmatic Charlie, etc.) They’re a lovable, quirky bunch of guys for sure. What a wacky bunch of characters! Oh mercy, the hijinks that must have ensued!

But that was then; this is now. Now they just make me feel old. And fat. They’re actually a little older than my dad, but they’ve got more pep than my 2-year-old. Last night I came home, opened the fridge, looked at the Hound Dog’s Pepperoni Pizza left-overs and just said “no”. I just got all Nancy Reagan on the idea. Gotta keep in shape for my big turn on the big screen as an AARP member in hot-pants.

Now if the fridge was stocked with “Champagne & Reefer” I might have felt a bit more enticed. Maybe they aren’t such a good influence after all. Oh hell, it worked for Keith. “To thine own self be true” (That’s from the Bible, I think.)

Overall, a Two-Thumbs-Up concert film, even though I always find blues-rock, or rockin’-blues, a little fatiguing. There seems to a fever-pitch reached early and often by the genre that numbs my ear-drums after about half-an-hour. Once you’ve got the bass drum kicking out straight fours, two or three guitars fighting for space in the mix, and a half-dozen other supporting instruments throwing in licks, there’s only so much higher you can take it.

Let’s listen to the last few minutes of Guns ‘N Roses’ Paradise City as a late-period example. Yes, I understand that the grass is green and that the girls are pretty. Yes, I would like to go there too. Frankly, any place with green grass and pretty girls is worth the drive, especially if you’ve got a 3-day weekend ahead of you. But I just don’t need the last 2:45 to convince of me of the self-evident truth. (Really, do I need to mention the green grass and pretty girls again? I think you get the picture!)

Similarly, during last night’s cinematic adventure, Mick had me convinced during a stretched-out version of “She Was Hot” that yes indeed, she was indeed hot. (But is she still? That was not addressed.) He really drove the point home. I mean, I’ve always had my doubts about the hotness of the woman in the song, but last night, between Mick and 3 backing vocalists chanting the truth, I became a believer.

But enough of that. I’m feeling up-beat and positive this morning. I’m just getting all Joel Osteen on the inside. So, let’s return to shining the light, shall we?

I was really happy to hear “Live With Me“, and Mick’s grinding on surprise-guest-star Christina Aguilera’s booty added a certain dramatic tension to the tune that I hadn’t noticed before. Also nicely tossed into the mix was a Motown by-way-of Memphis rendition of The Temptation’s “Just My Imagination“. Good songs are good songs, and that there’s a keeper.

Also popping up were Jack White and Buddy Guy. And that’s what makes The Stones THE STONES. It’s not that I’m a big fan. They’ve never really moved me. I’ve never had a wistful evening listening to Let It Bleed like somebody out there surely has. But who else can sit right in the middle of rock history and hold court like these guys? Who else can look as natural on stage with indie heroes, r’n’b sirens, and blues legends — all in the same night? It wasn’t an all-star tribute, it was (ahem) only rock ‘n roll. Even The Beatles couldn’t pull that off.

Glad I went, even if they didn’t play Miss You. Well, I guess you can’t always get what you want

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