Ronnie Wood of the Rolling Stones (photo by Any Rash)

Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones (photo by Andy Rash)

Bill Wyman of the Rolling Stones (photo by Andy Rash)

Mick Jagger of the Rolling Stones (photo by Andy Rash)

Charlie Watts of the Rolling Stones (photo by Andy Rash)

Big Shout Magazine, October 1989
By JEFF KIRK

As I was born in the mid-1960s, you may not find it very surprising that ever since I can remember the Rolling Stones’ music has always been on the radio. You can’t help but hear it daily in some form or another whether you listen to classic rock, Top 40, soft rock, or even an adult contemporary station. Well, I may be an exception, but I have grown up wit them around and not really paid that much attention to their music.

Yet, when I recently agreed to shell out the bucks for a ticket to their September 1, 1989 show at Veteran’s Stadium, I felt as if I was familiar enough with their songs to enjoy the show. As it turns out I was more than right, in fact, even if you had never heard their music before, I don’t see how you couldn’t have enjoyed the show. It ended up being one of the most entertaining concerts I have attended, and I’ve seen the mega-rockers in action and up close while being slammed in between other front row maniacs.

Now, when I went to Vet’s Stadium the day of the show, I wasn’t expecting to see Mick Jagger doing mid-air splits over Keith Richards’ head — the average age of a Stones’ band member is something like 45-years old, I’ll give them a break — but I was expecting a little more than what their opening band Living Colour delivered. From recent radio airplay and video rotation, I was actually looking forward to seeing this bad play, but they sounded weak, they looked boring, and they didn’t present themselves in the way an over-experienced band like the Stones did.

The Stones had an aura about them. They were like a battalion that has walked out of a war zone alive. You could look at them and say, “Wow, they’ve been through all that and have survived?!” That is really why I went — to see the group who has been in the rock war zone for such a long time.

I’m sure that even if they hadn’t had their enormous stage, light show, and pyrotechnics, even if they had all come out onto a bare stage with just a single spot light and performed, they still would have brought the house down. But as it was, they started with a bang, literally, when the entire stage front exploded into flame and the band started cranking out “Start Me Up” for the God-knows-how many-th time. The crowd went bonkers. There was Mick, clicking around the mike like a rooster. The crew had even torn up the stage carpet from around his microphone, leaving a slick, smooth surface for him to prance around.

I was watching from the nose-bleed section, binoculars in hand, so I got an excellent view of the entire stage antics. In fact, I don’t see how you could have seen the whole stage at once unless you were across the stadium from it. It was huge. It stretched across Vet’s Stadium, an intricate scaffolding of steel and canvas in the image of a steel mill — steam spouting from various pipes and tubes. And it was tall — three to four stories tall, topped off with a satellite dish (for MTV?) and small lights every ten feet or so.

During the first few songs the press were herded around the stagefront to take their photos and move on. They had to out maneuver the TV cameraman set up between them and the stage. You see, during the entire concert, three large screens were showing either slides, film, or onstage action for the benefit of my fellow nose-bleed seat holders without binoculars.

All this techno-headache was being orchestrated from an enormous sound/lights/video Leaning Tower of Pisa in midfield. It is a wonder the promoters didn’t have to sell a large number of obstructed-view seats. From that huge, midfield tower, slides were projected across the extent of the stage to give it texture with weird designs and patterns.

The music was played just as you might remember it. They played the old stuff, the not-so-old stuff, and only a few songs from the new album “Steel Wheels.” As the applause died down after each song, you could feel the anticipation and almost hear the thoughts racing through the tens of thousands of people around you, “What are they going to play next?” The beginning of each song brought wild cheers of nostalgia.

One of the more memorable highlights was the band’s rendition of “Sympathy for the Devil.” Mick disappeared offstage after announcing that Keith would sing a few. After the songs, the whole set when black, and an intense white light — like a hundred white flares tied together — burned at the top of the stage next to the satellite dish. As my eyes began to adjust to the light, I could pick out Jagger, dressed like Lucifer with microphone in hand, dancing about in front of the light high atop the stage. Needless to say, they were doing “Sympathy” like it should be done.

Perhaps the most impressive part of the show was during “Honky Tonk Women” when two gigantic girls were inflated on either side of the stage. These things were as tall as the three story high stage. They inflated quickly with a flurry of roadies swarming at their feet. It was one of those spectacles that just had you there with your mouth open and your eyes wide. They looked like the huge balloons in the Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade but larger and upright in alluring and almost frightening proportions.

Even with three backup singers and a four or five piece brass section during a few songs, the band took up a comically small portion of the stage. During one song, Jagger ran all the way to one end of the stage while Richards ran to the opposite end. Most people’s field of vision couldn’t include them both — you just had to pick a favorite and watch him. The stage really was too overdone, too large, too tall, too intricate, too much to take in at once, but come to thing of it, that is probably just what the Stones wanted.

During part of the show, there was a momentary light rain, which was ignored by most. No mere sprinkle was going to spoil this parade — song after familiar song kept the crowd at a fever pitch for more than two hours. The band only played one cover in all, and it was “I Fought the Law.” It took me most of the length of the song to realize it wasn’t theirs. It seemed natural for them to play it, and they did a great version.

How did they end a concert that started with a bang? With fireworks in the stadium. It was a considerable volley of Fourth-of-July-finale style pyrotechnics displayed during a classical recording. It was all rather impressive.

Now, I’m not going to tell you the whole experience changed my life, or I’m a Stones groupie, or I was saved by the whole experience. I still like their music just as much as I did walking into the concert, and I still probably won’t go by any of their albums. But I think the next time I hear a Stones song on the radio, I might not be so quick to change it to another station.

All photos by Big Shout staff photographer Andy Rash