The Rolling Stones -- This isn't Bush League

Connor Norris.

August 30, 2019.

I’ve many times expressed my distaste for reunion tours as well as the despicable nature of the “new” Lynyrd Skynyrd that still tours today. And that dislike stems from the notion that it just isn’t what it was. Bands that break up – like relationships – generally don’t split for no reason. And when a band goes down in a fiery plane crash in 1977, that generally suggests a finished chapter. Anything to come after this breakup or this tragedy just wouldn’t be the same. But there’s money. Loads of cash.

I’ll be the first to recognize that money is a primary factor in everything (mostly everything) that a band does. If you really want the cash grab, then an honorable thing to do is something akin to 'Sublime with Rome', where they openly admit that they're not what they once were. But the reunion tour or the money grab where a band keeps its name with only one original living member (a rhythm guitarist of all things) plays with the band… it’s just lazy . But if a promoter came to you with millions of dollars guaranteed, plus whatever you make on the tour, it’s hard to turn down even if you’re already financially stable.

But other than the reunion tour, and other than the concept of a “new” old band, there’s the bands that stick together… for a while. These are somewhat of an anomaly. It’s only human nature to get sick of hanging out with the same people for extensive periods of time. There’s multiple routes to take: (1) Just break up because you hate each other and everyone and everything having to do with that band (a la Oasis); (2) Have a revolving door of members with one man being the heartbeat of the band (a la Queens of the Stone Age); (3) Actually stick it out and remain a group through overdoses and sex and lots of it -- sometimes with each other’s significant others (a la the Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac, and other morally corrupted musicians who somehow didn’t kill each other throughout the years).

So the concept of chemistry matters, but also, if you’re a performer, you… actually need to perform the songs too. And as it’s human nature to get sick of someone, it’s also natural to act old… when you get old. We see bands try to tiptoe around the fact that their last half decent album was made some 20 years ago. And the fact that with their last good album, they’re old too, and they don’t have the flair that they once did. It’s a tough realization, and it’s one that not many artists make… Or if they do, they disregard their instincts and make the conscious decision to grab the dough. The age of streaming has made it essentially impossible to make a real profit off of only making songs and albums. The only place where you can make money is in touring. That’s why these young artists, for the most part, are hustlers. It’s because they need to be. The cycle is on a loop. Album, tour, album… all generally expected within a year to stay relevant. Many artists resort to the quick punch with releasing a single every so often to keep their name in the running.

But these old artists, who I love as much as the rest of us do… they don’t get it. It’s like many oldies with all of today’s fast paced advancements: they just don’t care enough to keep up, and by the time they figure one thing out, the next is already at bat. I suppose that their legacies allow them to use this fast pass. But sometimes it just feels like an adult recreational sports league. The heavyweights show up to the big festivals… and they make big money… Childish Gambino, Tame Impala, Ariana Grande, Billie Eilish, Arctic Monkeys… these guys get it. These big festival names are the big leagues. The NFL. The NBA. This is no bush league. But the billboards you see for Def Leopard at the Hard Rock Casino… It’s cool and all… but… it’s the adult recreational league. You’ll get a good crowd, you’ll get some hoots and hollers, but these guys can’t play jump with Lebron James anymore. This situation creates virtually 2 different worlds of music entertainment. While new bands and old bands maybe cross paths in the venues that they play and the process of touring and LiveNation and all that good stuff… there is something that would be undeniably awkward with having a band like the Eagles headline (or not headline) somewhere like Lollapalooza, where they are simply outmatched in age and ability. It would just be weird. So on these bands go playing casinos and amphitheaters across America playing to those who still have faith in their abilities.

Now, the Rolling Stones fall somewhere among loose boundaries. While they do the stadium tours, it wouldn’t feel that weird to see them at Coachella. In fact, there were serious talks of having them at the festival recently. Nonetheless, it might be because their brand has realistically stood the test of time. It’s hard to go virtually anywhere without seeing Mick’s tongue along the way. It’s on clothes, it’s in pictures, people just like the looks of it. Even if they don’t know Rolling Stones songs, they’ll still wear the shirt, and they’ll know that they’re repping the Rolling Stones. It’s rare to find something so universal around the entire world. Internationally, Mick and Keith are it.

So when the Stones went on this No Filter tour, I was skeptical of a handful of things. Postponing tour dates due to heart surgery is never a great opening line, especially for a 76-year-old rock star. I also was just unsure of the ability of the band anymore. I’d seen ZZ Top and Willie Nelson in the past year, and the voices of both Billy Gibbons and Nelson did not sound as much gritty as they did spent.

The Stones scheduled their Miami date due to Jagger’s operation, but the tour went on like nothing happened.

Generally with this whole NorrisReport thing... I'll email somebody with the band about getting some sort of photography pass or access for a "journalist." When it comes to the Rolling Stones, I might as well have been an ant. When you look up "Rolling Stones press contact" on Google, you can't get very far without reaching a dead end. Essentially, while I knocked on the door to this palace, all you get is the band's homepage on the other side of the door saying "Y'all hear sumn'?" That was a lost cause.

The tour was getting mixed reviews, but friend Jon Jenrette gave further enthusiasm when he saw their Jacksonville show and he highly recommended that I see the Miami show.

During the preceding week before the show, reports of the approaching Hurricane Dorian flustered the South Florida community. The concert was scheduled to take place on Saturday, August 31, and the hurricane was expected to hit sometime during the weekend. So on Thursday, August 29, the band rescheduled the show for that Friday, August 30. And, because they have that juice, they made everyone drop it and come running.

As we entered the Hard Rock Stadium for possibly the Rolling Stones’ last show ever, it was not hard to recognize that the crowd was old. Like an average age of maybe 60. Occasionally you’d see the daughters or sons brought by the parents, but that was mostly the only youth you’d see. I didn’t see much of the amped up teenager or an excited anybody in their 20s. The jump was early teens to 401K. Not a ton in between.

All things aside, it was exciting. The massive tongue displayed on the screen outside the stadium… it seemed somewhat surreal. You see it as a logo, a symbol, but you never expect to actually see Mick Jagger… that’s crazy talk. And entering the stadium, there was the longest line for merchandise I had ever seen. It stretched around the corner of the stadium and down the length of a football field. But perhaps these people had in mind that they were buying a piece of history, a shirt from the Rolling Stones’ last concert. The “last concert” thing seemed more and more interesting and believable as I thought over it. They do these blowout tours every few years, they make money, but everyone knows that they’re old. Mick is 76, Keith is 75, and Charlie Watts… he looks O-L-D. I’m sure they don’t care about that. But at some point you have to hang it up… right?

The clouds opened up on those in general admission before the band came on stage. It was pouring heavy drops for a good 5 minutes, just enough to drench everybody, and then the weather let up. According to the ticket, the show was to start at 8:00. This rain delayed that for some time, but around 9:00, multiple roadies brought squeegees (and some hustle) out to the stage and the catwalk and pushed the fallen rain off of the stage. As this was taking place, I came to think that the concept of Mick Jagger walking out onto the stage was inconceivable. Four of the most famous people in the history of the world… it’s too much to wrap your head around. But soon enough, the 11-man cast took their positions onstage. In perfect fashion of South Florida’s situation, they broke out into “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” with “I was born in a crossfire hurricane.” From the first notes of Jack Flash, you could tell they still had their sound. It was incredible. Everybody in the audience was into it. Those who came just to say they went, or those who came just to see Mick and Keith and reminisce about the days of old, they were actually in for a good show.

The show continued on, and Mick kept on with his obscure dance moves and pointing. Song after song, it was hit after hit. It was amazing to think of the density of their catalogue, where the band could play a whole set, still leaving out classic songs of theirs. They threw in “Out of Control” to their set list, which was something I hadn’t heard, but is now on my playlist. It goes to show the history and proliferation of the group.

While they played, it became easy to see why Mick Jagger is so famous. He strutted around stage for 2+ hours, and he didn’t fail to recognize one section of the stadium. He sang and spoke to all of us, like a really good Vegas entertainer. Anyone who’s seen him for his over-5-decade-long career has the same feeling of “Oh you know that guy?” because he creates an undeniable light that shines on him when he performs. He commands the stage, and he has really good music to back up his performing ability. Keith is great at what he does (stand there and be Keith Richards), but without Mick’s sheer ability to radiate star power, I doubt that the Rolling Stones would be the Rolling Stones.

While Ronnie ripped a tasteful solo to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”, the roadies ran to the edge of the catwalk and set up a drum set and microphones, suggesting a shift in the performance. When the song was over and the little living-room set up was complete, the starting four walked together to the edge of the catwalk, creating an ultimate intimacy between crowd and band. “Oh this is real cozy,” Mick added. They set up in this cute confined space, only about 10 feet from fans, the front men showcasing acoustic guitar porn and Charlie Watts, as always, taking the back seat. Charlie wore big headphones as he kept his head down and kept the beat steady. The acoustic quartet played “Sweet Virginia” and “Dead Flowers” respectively, and it was beautiful. It allowed the audience to look at these four people… as people, not high and mighty demigods. You could study their movements, their faces, and soon you would realize that Keith Richards had to put those clothes on and brush his remarkably white teeth just like you and me.

The show was just a good time. It was great music, and it was performed well. Mick looked good, and quite frankly, he looked hot. A few times when his shirt was lifted by some gust of wind, the dude has no gut. He’s slender, and he’s still got the moves like Jagger. Cheers to him and his 32-year-old partner.

The band dodged the rain during their main set. But after they capped off the main show with “Brown Sugar,” they came back on for their encore. Keith sat back and stroked the opening lines of “Gimme Shelter” and as Mick started the first line, “Oh a storm is threatenin’ my very life today,” rain began to fall. It was a glorious scene, and Mick and backup singer Sasha Allen did not shy away from the rainfall on the catwalk. The two walked hand-in-hand down the catwalk, and then Jagger let go to let Allen have the spotlight. Sasha Allen bent over and cried “War! Children!” bringing her melodic screech up an octave like Merry Clayton in the original recording. Ronnie Wood brought life to the stage during the whole show, and his youthful laughs during his solo even made Charlie crack a half-faced grin.

The show closed with “Satisfaction.” This song isn’t one of my favorites, but I’d be foolish to bash the performance of this last song. The main riff didn’t die down throughout the whole song, and as coordinated lyrics turned into random hoots and hollers by Mick Jagger, it began raining sideways with heavy drops. Ronnie Wood and Keith Richards stood under cover and laughed with each other as Mick didn’t hold anything back while standing in the rain. Looking at the stage, as the rain came down heavy, as the horns blasted, and as the volume was turned to 11 on all amplifiers, it depicted some sort of biblical scene out of the New Testament of Rock N’ Roll. It was righteous.

Who knows if this was their last show ever. If it was, dodging a literal hurricane and finishing a show by dancing in a rain storm started on cue by the first lines of “Gimme Shelter”? It wouldn’t be an awful way to go out with a bang.