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The Rolling Stones in the press: “The Jagger juggernaut rolls on in a satisfying rock spectacle”
The Rolling Stones arrive in Chicago in 1975 with something considerably larger than a rock concert. There is a giant silver lotus, Mick Jagger emerging from the stage, a giant balloon, ropes, confetti and, naturally, buckets of water. Subtlety clearly takes the night off. The Chicago Tribune sends jour Lynn Van Matre to witness the spectacle, and her review captures a band already turning its concerts into theatrical productions on an almost absurd scale. With Ronnie Wood newly joining the touring lineup and Jagger commanding the stage, The Rolling Stones deliver exactly the kind of excessive rock spectacle that 1975 seems uniquely designed to accommodate.
THE FINALE, you might say, was all wet—featuring Mick Jagger tossing a couple of buckets of water on a cheering audience, with a third slosh reserved for himself Tuesday night at the Chicago Stadium.
The show had begun with the unfurling of a lotus petal—the best way to describe the stylized stage setting for the three Rolling Stones concerts to be given at the Stadium thru Thursday.
From the side, you could barely make out Jagger being boosted to the top of one of the silver “petals” six points. Then the stage’s six sides slowly opened, settling flat to reveal Jagger and the band, and the show was off to the tune of “Honky Tonk Women.”
TWO HOURS LATER, the watery windup brought things to a close. In between, the Stones served up their usual staples—“You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” “Brown Sugar,” “Gimme Shelter,” and “Midnight Rambler,” the last featuring Jagger doing his usual number of whipping the stage with a belt while the band played on.
This is, of course, a “new” band, with guitarist Ron Wood, on vacation from Faces to tour with the Stones, on guitar, Billy Preston on keyboards, and Ollie Brown on congas fleshing out the usual Stones’ lineup of guitarist Keith Richard, drummer Charlie Watts, and bass player Bill Wyman.
But vocalist Jagger, as usual, was the focal poinot, and he played it for all it was worth, rolling around on stage, pirouetting like some farted-up ballet dancer gone berserk, preening and poking and generally achieving a sort of decadent derangement.
BY THIS TIME, Jagger’s once outrageous antics have wholly assumed an aspect of calculated absurdity; he has, in fact, become a parody of his own outrageousness.
Shortly into the show, a white phallic-shaped balloon rose from the middle of the stage and Jagger climbed aboard and rode it to its end, finishing with a couple of kicks. As he ended this little performance, a roll of toilet paper from the audience caught him in the crotch. His reaction to that was one of the first really spontaneous things that had occurred.
In fact, it was not until later, when Billy Preston soloed on keyboards and danced in the spotlight, that things really began to swing out—with Jagger himself swooshing out above the audience on a rope, then returning to touch ground once more and start in on “Brown Sugar.”
UP UNTIL THEN, the band had been good, tho the sound system often muddled the words beyond recognition. But the crowd had remained composed. After “Brown Sugar,” things began to really heat up, with people finally caught up in the rock ’n’ roll.
The show had a few slow moments, notably a couple of the slower songs (with the exception of “Wild Horses,” one of the best of all). But for the most part, it was satisfying spectacle. After more than a decade together, the Rolling Stones may not be the best rock ’n’ roll band in the world—but if they’re not, they sure put up a good front.
At the end, when confetti spewed from a dragon balloon’s mouth, it seemed a more appropriate ending than the buckets of water that immediately followed.
For it may be that, as the Stones sing, “It’s Only Rock and Roll,” but what happened Tuesday night at the Stadium was nothing less than a celebration.
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