“60 Years On…” 06-19-25 playlist Hr.2
The Rolling Stones – Jumpin’ Jack Flash (Live ’69)
The Rolling Stones – Sympathy For The Devil (Live ’69)
The Rolling Stones – Little Queenie (Live ’69)
The Rolling Stones – I’m Free (Live ’69)
The Rolling Stones – (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction (Live ’69)
Jellyshirts – Stutta (Live ’06)
Jellyshirts – Sea Hands (Live ’06)
Jellyshirts – To The Lake (Live ’06)
Jellyshirts – Truly (Live ’06)
Roll Away The Stones.
The Rolling Stones brought their “No Security” tour to my state recently. They played 2 sold out shows at an arena; capacity: 18-20,000 (depending on the seating arrangement). Ticket prices: from $90 to $125 each.
This got me thinking. I personally have avoided the Rolling Stones for over 2 decades now, the reason being a monumental show that I attended in 1978. It was just after the release of “Some Girls” & The Stones had a chart buster for the first time in years. So, it was time for an all-out Stadium tour. Well, just 1 week before graduating High School myself & a few buddies blew off the traditional Graduating class weekend party & set out for JFK Stadium in Philadelphia, a 4-hour train ride & a Road trip that changed the way I saw the world.
The following is an abridged account of that impact, written some years after the event….
> Just a week earlier The Rolling Stones had released “Some Girls”. It quickly became their biggest selling album in almost a decade. The Stones, a legendary band that had faded into mediocrity, were still great to us. Many parties were held with The Stones on the stereo. Now to have the chance to actually see them, this was the ultimate. During the late seventies we saw a lot of bands in concert, but to get to see a legend was rare. Bands like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Who, and The Stones toured infrequently, especially in our neck of the woods. So, when we heard that The Stones were going to play Philadelphia, a four-hour train ride away, and it was merely four days before graduation, it was a no brainer, we were there.
On the Friday two weeks after the Prom and the official start of the graduation party(ies), a short five days before the ceremony itself, the five of us hopped a train. The first thing we did after disembarking in Philly was to get a couple of Cheese Steaks (How could we not?). Then for convenience’s sake, we hit a local McDonalds to stock up for the long night of partying ahead. Being experienced in this sort of thing, we knew that a McDonalds hamburger would last longer and taste better after twelve to eighteen hours without refrigeration, than just about anything else. Each of us purchased a dozen burgers and then we jumped on the subway headed out to JFK Stadium. Even though it was only four o’clock in the afternoon on the day before the show, the subway car was filled with Rolling Stones fans.
Emerging from the depths of the subway terminal we were confronted with a sight that left us in awe. It was almost a feeling of Woodstock. I say almost, because as far as sheer numbers of people, this did not come close. (Later reports estimated the crowd at approx. 100,000). At four o’clock in the afternoon there had to be at least thirty thousand people already camped out around the stadium. After taking in our fill of this awesome sight we started towards the stadium gates. Winding our way through the massive amounts of tents, grills, kegs, blankets, and sleeping bags. Walking through this congregation of humanity one thing was evident, this was the biggest party we had ever attended in our lives. As far as the eye could see there was a party, spread out all over the stadium grounds and parking lot. From two and three people over here, to two and three hundred over there.
Another thing that amazed us was the presence of the sixty’s hippie generation. Why this was so amazing was the fact that up until that day, We, as social partying teenagers had never been privileged to be in the company of this monumental counter-culture. As we had entered our teens (around 1972), the hippie drug culture had all but disappeared. In reality though they had gone underground. Their numbers might have shrunk, and society in general may have rejected them, but they still thrived and they were here to carry on their message by simply partying with us. Cool.
And cool it was. I met up with Deb in the parking lot sometime around seven o’clock and we spent the night together. We all partied most of the night. We walked all around, always getting invited to party along with any group we happened to be passing by. Everybody was mellow. Everybody was groovin’. I realized this description may sound a little out dated, but that said it all, Groovin’. Listen to the song by The Young Rascals of the same name, This was it.
Being without sleeping bags we crashed on the sidewalk surrounding the stadium. Then around seven AM, we experienced an event the like I have never been involved in since. Groggily something stirred me out of my party induced stupor, As I arose, I noticed my friends arising as well. Suddenly we noticed not only were we arising, but it seemed as if every person there (now numbering at least sixty thousand or more) were arising along with us. That was mind blowing in itself, but not only was everyone waking up, they were quickly rushing the stadium gates. The spot we were in was directly between the majority and the gates. We had to move fast or within minutes we would be crushed. Gathering up what was left of our party materials we were swept up in the wave and carried along with it to the locked gates of the stadium. There we were left to stand shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, for the next four hours. Oh yea, I forgot to mention, as we slept it had begun to rain. So here we were, frazzled from the night of partying, soaked and miserable from sleeping on the sidewalk in the rain, and standing with sixty thousand or so others, who felt the same way, as more people gathered to get inside. What were we to do, except party on.
Once inside we settled down on some benches about half way up on the side and waited for the show to begin. After a few no name opening acts, Peter Tosh got on stage, and began a Reggae set that was not well received by the crowd. With the exception of the song “Legalize It” a pro pot anthem, during which he tossed buckets of Ganja spliffs into the audience, he was mostly booed. Next up was Foreigner. Riding the success of their self-titled debut album in ’77, with the hit singles “Cold As Ice” and “Feels Like The First Time”, they were about ready to release their second album “Double Vision”. When they hit the stage, they ROCKED. From the first song to the last, for a full sixty-five minutes they blew the doors in. The Stones couldn’t have picked a better band to open for them. Foreigner had whipped the soaking wet, over partied crowd into a frenzy. All the Stones had to do was get on stage and pick up right where they left off.
What followed was one off the most disappointing moments of my life. They Sucked. The Rolling Stones Sucked. They arrived by helicopter, ran on stage and began playing one of the most uninspired sets of music I have ever heard. The sound mix was horrible, Mick Jagger’s vocals sounded wretched, Keith Richard’s could hardly stand let alone play guitar. Ron Wood didn’t even seem like he was playing, or for that matter, even interested in playing, and Charlie Watts just looked and played like he was pissed.
Fifty minutes, that’s all, no encore, nothing, they were gone. The people were stunned. We filed out of JFK stadium dumbed and numbed.
My friends and I didn’t say much to each other as we headed towards the subway. We didn’t know what to say, the shock of disappointment was still too fresh. I said a long good-bye to Deb, never realizing it would be the last time I would ever see her. I was too blown away by the events of the last thirty six hours to even consider that remote possibility.
On the train heading home we mostly slept, not much conversing. I took to contemplating the subtle symbolic references we had encountered and tried to apply some coherent significance to them. Too much thinking for a too fried brain. I didn’t come up with any sort of eye-opening revelation that day. I eventually put it aside and slept. We slept the whole train ride home. Except for the one time that a “Man” came through the car and announced; “Hey Man, we’re taking over the last car man, and like, we’re gonna party, man. You guys went to the Stones, man, didn’t ya? Yea, crazy shit huh man. I can’t believe they were that bad, man. So anyways, man, we’re like gonna party our bummed-outness away, man. Come on back and join us, OK, man.”
“OK, OK we’ll see ya in a few minutes,” we replied and then went back to sleep, man.
Only with the wisdom of time have I been able to find the answers that I searched for on that train. We had been failed by our ideals. The real world didn’t care about us; all it cared about was our money. Madison avenue had climbed into our pockets through our culture. Corporate America had infiltrated our ranks and was getting rich off keeping us oppressed.
I was leaving the sheltered world of Childhood and joining the Real world in a few short days, and everything that I grew up with was dead on. It was not all some crazy mixed up scripted television movie of the week. It was real. The hippie drug culture and all their speeches, protests, both social and political, and the upheaval that ensued had been right. Why care about a society that did not care about us. The Establishment had failed us. It led us to believe that they cared about us, but all they really cared about was controlling us and our money. Here the parallel symbolism is the Establishment and the “Rolling Stones”.
We watched the generation of the sixties try to withdraw from mainstream society and take care of themselves. Their view being; that any society that would force you to kill or be killed over something that you did not believe in, was not a society to belong to. So, they tried to set up their own society. My generation thought they lost, gave up, but they didn’t. They were still carrying on and they had come to the Stones concert to give us their support even if the Stones didn’t.
My friends and I had chosen not to party with the social circles of our school friends, secluded comfortably away from Adulthood and the awful realities of life. We went out and met it head on, we exposed it, and it was clear what we were getting into. Before graduation we knew the cold hard facts of the real world. It’s all a game. A game that I did not want to be involved in, even though I was. I could see that I was about to be sucked into a life I was not prepared for. <
Sorry to be so overindulgent, but I needed to share this, so that people may understand my contempt for the Rolling Stones.
Every show means something to someone in some way, & every Artist who takes our money to perform for us, should always at least *TRY* to give us the very best they can. IMO, that’s what separates an Artist from a mere entertainer out to make a buck.
-G.Gone
