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The Stones in the press: “Down from their cloud – The Rolling Stones at the Forum” (by Richard Cromelin)
By 1973 The Stones’ concerts had become more of a spectacle than a genuine rock experience. According to this article, while classics like Jumpin’ Jack Flash still got people going, the band seemed to rely too much on out-of-tune horns and flashy stage production. A Stones show was now an “event” for the jet set—a place to be seen, not a place to hear new or significant music. The author suggests the band had lost its edge, becoming “fashionable and boring,” and wishes they’d take a break or at least play with more passion.
Well it was real nice to hear them do “Route 66,” even though it should have been twice as fast like on December’s Children. They did “It’s All Over Now,” too. On that one Keith and Mick got right up to one mike and gave that cruddy, beautiful high harmony. I can’t think of a nicer thing to see, except maybe Paul and George doing the same thing and shaking their hair around. They played pretty well during the whole show, actually better than their last time at the Fabulous Forum anyway.
But really, it’s only another rock ’n roll band. It shouldn’t be necessary to state that there have been at least ten concerts over the past several months that generated tons more excitement than did the Rolling Stones’ earthquake benefit at the Forum. It’s extremely obvious that they’re well over the hill, that the magic that once pulsated through the music is a faraway thing, that, in short, the Stones are a relic of a wonderful time, with very little relevance or immediacy. The farther back into their repertoire they dipped the more electric they became. “Route 66” and “It’s All Over Now” made you thirst for more and more of it. It would have been so great to see Mick down on his knees screaming “That’s How Strong My Love Is,” to hear the band explode into “It’s All Right” the way they do on Out of Our Heads, to have our spines turned to water by the sinister “Play With Fire.” As it is, their nondescript recent material is in perfect keeping with their current bland image and placid stage demeanor. There’s something spaced-out and languorous about them now, an air of lacquered, affected decadence.
Sure, they put on a professional show, know how to please their willing audience, are able to have a good time on stage and all that; but there’s absolutely none of the urgency, frenzy, passion it once was all about. Who would have thought that the world’s nastiest and most flamboyant ass-shaker would be reduced to some standard rock ’n roll bump-and-grind and a series of clown-like prances that were sadder, more pitiful than comical? He (and the rest of them) looked lazy, aging, cynical, half-hearted, like they had very few years of carrying on. And they must continue to put up a big front as long as it lasts. But it’s time to start thinking about a mandatory retirement age for rock ’n rollers.
The lackluster crowd didn’t help much. Half the people there were running around trying to find out where the party was going to be. Reports ranged from the Beverly Hills Hotel to the Beverly Hilton to the Beverly Wilshire after the Rainbow to Michael Butler’s house to nowhere at all, because the Stones were being closely shadowed. And when a party, people and any party would surely be busted: and certainly, in fact, was busted: Bianca (wielding her big stick) and Keith returning to the Beverly Wilshire after who in no shape for a big party, Keith dressing as a bellhop and chasing Mick down the hall, but that’s anotherstory — and the folks in the front rows, the critical response zone, well, let’s just say that those able to shell out $100 for a concert ticket aren’t generally the boogying kind.
Everyone was standing for the first few numbers, sure, but as soon as the ushers politely asked everyone to sitdown they went and there they stayed like a bunch of sweet little school kids, and that’s a travesty of everything sacred to rock ’n roll. True, there were some moments. Mick didn’t do nearly enough with the elevated platform behind the band, but when he did prance across the top a bit of excitement shot out.
And songs like “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and “Street Fightin’ Man” couldn’t help but be stirring. Even so, did you ever think you’d see the day when the Rolling Stones would rely on horns (out of tune ones at that) for a full sound? and when the real stars would be the stage and lighting crews? Technology is nice, but when that’s all you’ve got to impress people with it’s time to think about a nice rest. The thing is, a Rolling Stones concert has become an event, a place to see and be seen, something to say you were at. They’re international figures, after all, family men and bad boy darlings of the jet set. But it’s so fashionable and so boring to benaughty. Who really cares? as an Event, then, it couldn’t help but succeed. but as far as any significance to the Seventies or importance to what’s happening in rock ’n roll, well, forget it. Cheech and Chong preceded the Stones and did all right considering the size of the place. But they could sure use some new material, could tighten up even more, and should try something a bit more challenging than the “We hate Nixon/We like dope” humor that they get by so easily on. Santana was so boring that they had Robert Hilburn smoking cigarettes. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to listen to 12 x 5.
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