50 Licks Page 12

  So, we went in and did it. Matter of fact, I did it three times. I didn’t do an overdub. Mick’s vocal was already on it when I heard it and I recall he did a bit of touching up after I left. But they got what they wanted. “It was so nice meeting you guys.” “Oh Merry you sound incredible. We just love you. We’re gonna work with you” . . . I was walkin’ out the door as they were talkin’. “OK, love you guys, too! See you some other time.” And I got in the car with my husband who took me right home and I went right upstairs to bed. And that was the “Gimme Shelter” session.

  The song has a legion of admirers, including a certain well-known film director. After the release of Shine a Light, Martin Scorsese was asked to compare the subject matter of the Stones with another of his familiar subject matters—gangsters.

  MARTIN SCORSESE: It reminds me of when I went to see Threepenny Opera back in 1959, 1960, at the Theater de Lys, and how the music affected me and what that was saying, and what that play said, and the lyrics. The lyrics were so important to me. I grew up in an area that was, in a sense, like The Threepenny Opera, and I think at times, the music, the Rolling Stones’ music, had a similar effect on me. It dealt with aspects of a life that was growing up around me, that I was experiencing and trying to make sense of. And so it was tougher, it had an edge, it was beautiful, honest, brutal at times, and powerful. And it’s always stayed with me and become a well of inspiration to this day. Mick said to me in Berlin, “I want you to know that Shine a Light is your only film that ‘Gimme Shelter’ is not played in.” And when I use “Gimme Shelter” in a film, it’s just as apropos today; and when I use it in a film I don’t remember that I did it before. Someone might say, you did it before, and I say, that’s alright, let’s put it in. It’s something that has been very important to me over the years.

  CHAPTER 21

  HONKY TONK WOMEN

  THE ROLLING STONES hadn’t had a number one hit in the States since “Ruby Tuesday/Let’s Spend the Night Together” in March of 1967. They wouldn’t have another one, “Brown Sugar/Bitch,” until May of 1971. But in 1969, a year of chaos and crisis for the world and the band, they unleashed a brilliant, instant Stones classic—“Honky Tonk Women/You Can’t Always Get What You Want”—that ascended to the top of the charts on August 23 (my twenty-fourth birthday by the way, and less than a month after I had joined WNEW-FM).

  Brian Jones left the band on June 9, and was found dead in his swimming pool less than a month later on July 3. His final work with the group was two tracks on the Let It Bleed album: percussion on “Midnight Rambler” and autoharp on “You Got the Silver.” Mick Taylor joined up at that point and his first session with them was for the single version of their fifth number one American single, “Honky Tonk Women.”

  The record came out on July 4 in England, the day after Brian’s death, and on July 11 in the States, the day after his funeral. About four hundred promotional copies were given away to fans who helped to clean up after the Hyde Park concert on the fifth. (See chapter 19.)

  Big hit singles are either from albums of new material, or released independently, then quickly collected on packages of greatest hits. Before it even finished its run on the singles charts, “Honky Tonk Women” turned up in September of 1969 on a compilation called Through the Past, Darkly (Big Hits Vol. 2); the successor to Big Hits (High Tide and Green Grass). In another blaze of originality, artistic flair, and marketing genius, the cardboard cover for the collection was not the typical twelve-and-a-quarter-by-twelve-and-a-quarter-inch jacket. Instead, it was cut out octagonally, like a stop sign, featuring the five group members as if they were pressing and distorting their faces right against the sealed plastic wrapper that enveloped the recording. Instant collectible, anyone?

  An earlier version of “Honky Tonk Women,” when it was still a rollicking barroom drinking song called “Country Honk,” featuring Sam Cutler honking an actual car horn, ended up as side one, cut three on the Let It Bleed album released in December. Also on that album was the full-length version of “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” clocking in at seven minutes, twenty-eight seconds. A four-minute, forty-nine-second edited version ended up as the B side of “Honky Tonk Women,” minus the chorus and some horn parts.

  It’s as interesting a story as the A side. One of my favorite rock ’n’ roll performers of all time is the legendary Al Kooper. Aside from his ample credits as a musician, writer, arranger, teacher, and producer, he has also authored one of the best and most entertaining books about the rock ’n’ roll life, Backstage Passes and Backstabbing Bastards, a must-read for anyone interested in the roller-coaster ride of the music biz. Al has never been accorded the acclaim commensurate with his talents—he belongs in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

  Al also earned an asterisk for his unexpected contribution to the sessions for “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” Many regard the song as yet another attempt on the part of the Rolling Stones to equal or surpass an accomplishment by their bosom buddies/arch-rivals the Beatles—namely “Hey Jude.” It’s a reasonable assumption, isn’t it? One last Hail Mary pass as the Fab Four were beginning to implode, and the Rolling Stones were about to take the title Greatest Rock ’n’ Roll Band in the World!

  The Stones were in Olympic Studios in London putting Let It Bleed together. Al Kooper, burned out from all his recording responsibilities in the States, booked a trip to England to unplug, decompress, and do nothing but relax. The Rolling Stones had other ideas. Hearing about Al’s proximity from the rock ’n’ roll grapevine, Mick and Keith found him, wore him down, and got him to agree to play organ and piano at the session, very much in his comfort zone, of course. The recording went extremely well, and, when it was finished, Al had a brainstorm. I’ll let him pick up the story:

  AL KOOPER: I told Jagger that if he ever wanted to put horns on it to call me ’cause I had a great part for it. Almost nine months after that session, an eight-track master of the song arrived at my office one day at CBS. There was a note which said, “Dear Al, you once mentioned you could put some great horn parts on this. Well, go ahead and do it and send us the tape back. Love, Mick.”

  What a memory that Jagger had. I wrote out a horn chart, leaving a spot in the intro where I could play a French horn solo. The intro itself took me three hours to get ’cause I’m not the world’s greatest French horn player, and I wanted to sound like I was . . . It was a bad night in the studio for me, and the part didn’t come out nearly as good as I thought it might. I crossed my fingers and sent Jagger back his tape. A year later it came out, and they had ditched all the horn parts except my little French horn intro. It sounded fantastic on the radio. You could hear the piano and the organ, and they actually gave me credit on the single. Nice guys . . . over the years, the Stones have always been honorable, great people to hang out with, and the best people to play after-hours music with.

  Here’s another asterisk for you, Al. * You’re the best!

  CHAPTER 22

  YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT

  FROM JULY TO August of 1969, the attention of the rock ’n’ roll world shifted from a concert in Hyde Park, London, by the Rolling Stones that was supposed to be free to one in Upstate New York that wasn’t supposed to be free, but turned out that way nonetheless. The Woodstock Music and Art Fair created a sea change in the economics of rock ’n’ roll that would have reverberations right up to this day, and even though the Rolling Stones were not a part of it, they would play a huge role in the ways and means by which the music industry would generate capital from that day forward.

  Woodstock became iconic without the participation of the holy trinity of ’60s rock: the Beatles were in the death rattle phase of their existence knocking off one last masterpiece—Abbey Road. Bob Dylan sat home petulantly sixty miles away from the festival, opting instead to perform at the Isle of Wight in September; and the Stones were consumed by a litany of personal and professional obligations and responsibilities. Stones engineer Eddie Kramer ended
up doing the sound at Woodstock.

  EDDIE KRAMER: I think the Stones would have done enormously well at Woodstock. The competition would have been so fierce. Having Jimi Hendrix, the Who, and the Stones. It doesn’t get much better than that.

  During the research phase of my previous book—Back to the Garden: The Story of Woodstock—the question about why the Stones weren’t there came up quite often. The most consistently offered answers were that they were too expensive to sign up and would bust the already fragile budget of the event. And that the group’s dark, demon-riddled simulacrum at the time would have clashed too drastically with the peace, love, and music brand that the event was cultivating.

  I think with the wisdom of hindsight, we can see that an appearance by the Rolling Stones would only have enhanced and magnified even further the cachet of Woodstock. More than anything else, pragmatic considerations made that fantasy booking impossible. Certainly Brian Jones’s death was still at the top of the list. And when they weren’t mourning their lost friend or otherwise attending to his passing, finishing up Let It Bleed and preparing for a fall tour of America were the band’s main priorities. On top of all that, Mick Jagger was learning his lines for Ned Kelly, the motion picture he was about to shoot in Australia; and Keith and Anita were having a son, Marlon, who was born on August 10. It was, simply, a lot. It didn’t preclude, however, the band’s thoughts of a big event of their own during the upcoming tour of the US . . .

  The poster for the Rolling Stones 1969 tour of North America

  The Stones regrouped at the end of October in Los Angeles. First up on the agenda was finishing up the work on Let It Bleed that had begun over a year before. Next up was an unexpected journalistic stink bomb hurled at the group by a very respected and influential columnist in San Francisco. It makes me laugh to consider what Ralph J. Gleason, who died in 1975, would think about the totally outrageous ticket prices charged for an “A” list rock concert in the twenty-first century. Gleason, who was also a co-founder of Rolling Stone magazine, wrote the following after details were announced about the Stones tour in 1969: “Can the Rolling Stones actually need all that money? If they really dig the black musicians as much as every note they play and every syllable they utter indicates, is it possible to take out a show with, say, Ike and Tina and some of the older men like Howlin’ Wolf and let them share in the loot? How much can the Stones take back to Merrie England after taxes, anyway? How much must the British manager and the American manager and the agency rake off the top?”

  When the issue was raised at a press conference promoting the tour at the Beverly Wilshire Hotel, Mick was clearly stung by it, and responded thusly:

  MICK JAGGER: We were offered a lot of money to play some very good dates—money in front in Europe, before we left, really a lot of bread. We didn’t accept because we thought they’d be too expensive on the basis of the money we’d get. We didn’t say that unless we walk out of America with X dollars, we ain’t gonna come. We’re really not into that sort of economic scene. Either you’re gonna sing and all that crap, or you’re gonna be a fuckin’ economist. I really don’t know whether this is more expensive than recent tours by local bands. I don’t know how much people can afford. I’ve no idea. Is that a lot? You’ll have to tell me.

  He also left the door open for some kind of “free” event on the West Coast to calm the storm—more on that in chapter 24.

  Opening night was set for November 7 at Colorado State University. Based on his triumphant handling of the Hyde Park concert, Sam Cutler was brought on board as the tour manager, which led to a fateful and long-lasting decision by Cutler:

  SAM CUTLER: The Rolling Stones had pretty much been away from the music scene for three years. At the height of their fame, their concerts would last for perhaps twenty minutes before the stage was swamped by screaming teenagers and the show would have to be abandoned. Production value seemed to be of little concern. The forthcoming American tour, the Stones soon realized, was going to be different; they were going to have to deliver the goods. In America, people actually listened to music.

  It was quite a challenge. How would the Stones reinvent themselves as a live act?

  SAM CUTLER: We were rehearsing in LA. Mick Taylor was still learning all the parts and the rehearsals weren’t going very well. I asked a couple of beautiful California blonde sisters who were standing there what they thought of it. They just gushed, “Oh, they’re the greatest rock and roll band in the world.” Well, I didn’t think so.

  We eventually left to do our first show in Colorado and we were on the plane and Mick said, “Oh, we have nobody to introduce the band.” He said, “Sam can do it.” I didn’t think any more about it until I went on stage, then it just popped into my mind, “The Greatest Rock ’n’ Roll Band in the World, the Rolling Stones.” Mick was furious. It wasn’t a very good gig. He said, “Don’t say that about us.” Well either you fucking are or you aren’t. What’s it going to be? And that was the end of it. They had that kind of frailty about them. They never knew if they were going to make it. But that’s what makes them a great band and they produce wonderful music. The moniker has stuck ever since.

  The tour was under way. Next stop, Los Angeles for two shows on November 8, then up to Oakland for another two shows on November 9. It was here that the group would encounter another formidable figure in rock ’n’ roll with whom they would have an on-again, off-again relationship for the next twenty-two years—rock impresario Bill Graham.

  SAM CUTLER: Bill Graham was like a lot of people around the Rolling Stones; it went to their heads. Bill Graham was arrogant to the extreme, a pain in the butt. People were getting really fed up with him. Some girl was trying to get on stage and Bill Graham was pushing her back into the audience and she kept on coming and Bill Graham then started slapping her. Charlie Watts and I were standing backstage and Charlie saw that and said, “Get that guy out of there.” I said, “It’s the promoter.” Charlie didn’t give a fuck who it was. “You can’t be doing that. Get him out of there.”

  So I went and told him, “Get off the stage, man.” He said, “Do you know who I am? I’m Bill Graham. This is my stage.” At which point I said, “It’s the Rolling Stones’ stage. Fuck off.” At that point there was a fight. We got separated by security guys. He said that the second show wouldn’t go on unless I was out of the building. He didn’t care how much it would cost, he would cancel the other show. Which was all bullshit. Finally, Mick agreed to see Bill. Bill came in the dressing room while I was standing there. Mick was standing there putting his makeup on. Bill said to me that if I wasn’t out of the building, there wouldn’t be a second show. Mick was very good about it. He said, “First off, Sam works for me, not for you. I decide what happens with Sam. Number two, who are you?” He said, “I’m Bill Graham. I’m the promoter.” Mick said, “Didn’t I speak to you on the telephone from London? Oh yes, you were rude to me. You shouted at me. I hate people who are rude on the telephone. Now listen Bill, we’ll be on in five minutes.” He just turned back around and continued putting his makeup on and that was the end of that.

  Bill Graham’s version of the same story is very different:

  BILL GRAHAM: The problems started right away during the first show. The Stones went on forty-five minutes late. Jagger told the crowd it was because no one had picked them up at the airport but the truth was that Tina Turner had killed the audience to such a degree that the Stones did not want to play right after her.

  When they started doing “Satisfaction” during the first show, all the kids who had been dancing in the aisles rushed the stage. I was under the piano when it happened. I got to my feet and I went to the front edge of the stage to keep the kids from coming up or getting hurt in the crush. Sam Cutler tried to have me removed by a tall black security guard.

  “We’d like to know who you are,” Cutler said.

  “Get your fucking hands off me!” I screamed at him. “I’d like to know who you think you are. This is my stage
.”

  I went crazy on him. We grabbed one another and started wrestling right on stage as the Stones played “Satisfaction.” But they broke it up and nothing really came of it. Between shows, I went back into the dressing room to talk to the Stones. I tried to make them understand. “Look,” I said. “We’ve got two shows tonight. Please be ready on time for the second one.”

  WE NEVER REALLY GOT IT ON UNTIL DETROIT

  Once again on the ’69 tour, the Stones shared the stage with black artists they idolized such as B.B. King and Chuck Berry, and supported up-and-coming black artists like Tina Turner. The Stones saw firsthand the racial divide that was happening in America. Shows in Alabama created concern among the band.

  SAM CUTLER: There were a lot more black artists on the stage than there were black guys in the audience. That’s for sure. It was shocking and we hated it. The Stones championed black music the whole of their lives. To have to go to the University of Alabama and go through that was shocking.

  The Stones loved playing in Detroit. I think they loved it because it was a black audience. They could play what was essentially black music to black people. Anyone that was anyone in Detroit showed up wearing their bling, looking like a million dollars. Brown sugar wall to wall. Mick loved it; everybody loved it. It was a cracker of a show. Things built up throughout the tour until we did Madison Square Garden which in some respects was the height of it all.