Mick Jagger is an Animal
A story about longevity
There will never be another band like The Rolling Stones. Say what you will about their music, but you know their songs—everyone knows their songs—and that kind of popular recognition just doesn’t happen anymore. As big as Taylor Swift is, for instance, I’d bet most people couldn’t name a single song (no shade here, Swifties).
Many reasons for this standalone success: the cultural impact of the British invasion launching their career, consolidated radio play turning everyone onto their releases, a sixty-year career. Overall, quite a different scene from the kind of churn artists face today.
Then again, maybe none of that matters. Maybe The Rolling Stones are one of a kind simply because Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, and Charlie Watts are really fucking cool.
I’ve seen the Stones twice: once in 1997 when I was eleven, and again just two weeks ago. I’m now thirty-seven, while Mick and Keith are eighty. But this wasn’t some nostalgic revival act. No, it was a full-blown spectacle in support of a brand new album. Legendary music critic
writes of how this all fits into their sixty-year career—though as a mere spectator, I found it incredible just being there.
A quick rundown of personnel: of the original Stones, only Mick and Keith are left. Charlie Watts, who passed away in 2021, was definitely missing on the drums. Ronnie Wood, who joined the band in 1975 as the “replacement guitarist,” moved around like one of those 12’ skeletons in Home Depot at Halloween time, though he maintained his trademark mischievous smile. Keith Richards, while his fingers don’t work quite like they used to, is still unquantifiably cool. And Mick Jagger . . . well, Mick Jagger carried that fucking show. The guy was doing jumping jacks and running back and forth across the stage the entire time—a total animal.
And I remember this from the show in ‘97. They called it the Bridges to Babylon tour. Mick Jagger changed outfits fifteen times. At one point an actual bridge telescoped out of the main stage to a smaller stage in the center of the crowd (Babylon, I guess?). And as a kid it seemed monumental. I stuffed confetti that blasted out during the encore into my pocket, proudly showing it to my friends at Sunday school the next morning. Overall, it had been unforgettable—and to a large extent, twenty-seven years later, the energy remained.
Maintaining a show of such magnitude is no doubt part of their enduring success. But ultimately I think the longevity of The Rolling Stones comes from something deeper: their respect for the past.
In Keith’s autobiography he talks about bluesmen like Jimmy Reed and early rock-and-rollers like Chuck Berry, how he emulated them and wanted nothing more than for their music to live on. Charlie Watts came from a jazz background, bringing swing and syncopation into the heartbeat of their rock and roll sound. And Mick took the reins from flamboyant showmen like Little Richard. Some might claim appropriation, but these guys respected the past, their influences, and most importantly, celebrated them.
At the show last week, during a call-and-response with the crowd, Mick hollered a big “whoa” with a certain intonation, adding, “That’s how Muddy Waters said it.”
You want to know why The Rolling Stones are the greatest rock and roll band of all time? It’s because they took this reverence for their forebearers and kept it alive, kept it relevant through changing times, ebbing and flowing in and out of trends in the way that makes things timeless.
This holds true way beyond music. The line between relic and touchstone to the past might be thin, but if the thread carries through, I think it’s the past itself which leads to a long and fruitful future.
Anyway, enough analysis—I’ll leave that to the critics. As Mick Jagger once sang: I know it’s only rock and roll, but I like it. Now, do yourself a favor and watch this banging video of the young Rolling Stones at their best . . .
-Martin
Yeah, man. They don't build 'em like that anymore.
That's Mick Taylor on guitar.