We have a handful of stories inspired by The Rolling Stones.
Just the five, which may be a fraction surprising.
Sophia Irvine takes us to her childhood:
While I can’t remember being read The Very Hungry Caterpillar when I was a child, I do remember Sympathy For The Devil blaring in the car while I was still in a booster seat.
Before I could read or write Sympathy For The Devil went hand in hand with my feelings for my dad, like the song was written about him or he perhaps had a hand in the creation of it.
He promptly answered my questions about who the Kennedys were and what a troubadour was, and where Bombay was.
He said Mick Taylor was the greatest guitarist of all time, citing the guitar solo on the live version of the 1969 US tour.
“Paint it blaaaccckkkk” yells a fan before they launch into Sympathy For The Devil almost out of spite and what occurs is a sound, a magic, an era and a rebellion that lived on in our small semi in the eastern suburbs of Sydney…
Rijn Collins celebrates Merry Clayton:
Merry Clayton is the voice you hear on Gimme Shelter, the one that leaves Mick Jagger flailing behind. Her howl is so full of rage and dread that the song wouldn’t have packed the punch it did without it. Hers is the voice that, if you’re listening properly – and you should, believe me – will make the hair on the back of your neck stand up…
Jim Roberts celebrates enduring friendship:
Alone in the snow shack with the fire blazing thinking of what was to come – a weekend of camaraderie with life-long mates – the iPod gently sorted through itself. The Rolling Stones’ Waiting On A Friend came on. Not long after the song ended, I heard the sound of vehicles coming through the rusty old gate.
And Kevin Densley recalls garage band gigs in a country town hall, and a footy club:
Sometime before the gig at the little country hall started, I noticed on a poster that an aspect of the evening was a “Ladies Bring A Plate” request, typical of country dances back then. I wondered what we were doing there, being a rock band without any of the repertoire I associated with such nights – but I suppose I was viewing the country dance setting and idea too literally, as Pride of Erins and barn dance tunes didn’t turn out to be obligatory.
We went through our usual repertoire, with The Rolling Stones’ Respectable rattling the rafters in Freshwater Creek…
…Honky Tonk Woman was on the set list for a gig in the clubrooms of the St Albans Football Club on a winter’s night, with a pig on a spit, a few barrels and a good-sized crowd. That gig was the only one South Side ever played. I’m not sure why, really. We were all good mates and didn’t have a falling out, and the job itself went swimmingly. I think we just joined other bands who wanted us more than we wanted to run a band ourselves!
Charlie Watts. 2 June 1941 – 24 August 2021