By the spring of 1972, the Rolling Stones had a new album on the streets and were ready to return to the live stage. Having crawled out of the mold-encrusted basement of Keith Richards’ French villa/hideout like a pack of decadent pale-skinned lizards, they headed for the US to tour behind Exile On Main Street. Legend has it that the band’s opening shows in early June of ’72 showed the signs of their having been off the road for a couple of years – but by mid-month, they were banging on all cylinders. And by the time the Stones hit Texas for a 4-show stand later in the month, they were truly deserving of the title of “The Greatest Rock & Roll Band In The World.” Ladies & Gentlemen … The Rolling Stones captures all the wallop, sweat, and grit of those nights.
Right off the bat: for fans of the Mick Taylor years, this is as good a visual document as you will find. It’s interesting to note that although he and guitar mate Keith Richards hardly even look at each other throughout Ladies & Gentlemen, they mesh and complement each other perfectly. There is little of the “ancient art of weaving” as practiced by Richards and Ronnie Wood over the years since Taylor’s departure in 1974 – and certainly none of the arm-draped-over-the-shoulder mugging and cutting-up – as the line between rhythm and lead in the Taylor years was solid and very defined. When Keith is holding down the rhythm (especially during the 5-string open-G Telecaster pieces like “Tumbling Dice” and “Happy”), Taylor has the leads. And when Richards is either paying homage to hero Chuck Berry on “Bye Bye Johnny” or channeling him during “Bitch”, Taylor chugs away over on his side of the stage. But it works – and at times it’s tempting to wonder where the Stones’ sound would have gone if …
But no matter; Ladies & Gentlemen captures the Richards/Taylor duo in magnificent form, and so is the rest of the band. Bassist Bill Wyman does that thing he always did so well: stand in one place and play solid bass lines. And Charlie Watts locks in on the grooves, offering the occasional smile or eye roll, but pretty much focused on tending the engine room of the mighty Stones machine.
And then there’s Mick Jagger. (Take note that four different performances are documented here, folks – Mick really doesn’t change his clothes that often – or change back into a sweat-soaked jumpsuit from an earlier song, either.) But jumpsuits (and eye glitter) aside, it’s Jagger’s energy and showmanship that command your attention. As frantic as his stage demeanor might get at times, you never feel that he’s doing anything more than feeling the music at that moment – whether it’s the sweaty, amped-up charge through “Rip This Joint” or the down-on-the-knees and belt-slapping-the-stage sexual tension of “Midnight Rambler”.
There is a lot of blackness and shadows in Ladies & Gentlemen … The Rolling Stones – no laser light shows or breathtaking pyrotechnics here. However, the lighting captures the mood of the stage at any given moment. Consider the dark depths of “Gimme Shelter”: Jagger is center stage, bathed in red; Richards hangs on the edge of the darkness, eyes closed and swaying to the groove; and when Mick Taylor takes a solo break, a harsh white spot nails him like a prisoner who’s trying to escape. It all seems so basic, but it’s just right.
There are, however, moments when you wish you could just reach out and give the camera a yank or a nudge; cinematographic protocol in 1972 called for a fixed camera view rather than pan-with-the-action technique. When you’re dealing with Bill Wyman or Mick Taylor, you know they ain’t goin’ nowhere – and there are a number of Taylor’s solos that are captured in detail (total guitar picker porn). But when Jagger leaves the immediate confines of the mic stand and takes off on one of his wild dancing/wriggling/jumping/scooting/sliding/thrusting romps across the stage, the various cameras have to work hard to keep him in their rigid fields of vision. Even Keith – who certainly wasn’t prone to do the stage-prowling that he has in more recent years – disappears from view on a regular basis, giving in to the groove with a dip, a sway, or a lurching swagger. (Note: see those old-school curly-cue telephone receiver-style guitar cords, boys and girls? There was a limit as to how far one was going to travel.)
And it needs be to asked: who made the decision to focus the camera on Mick’s ass during the opening 15 seconds of “Happy”?
Having said all that, there is one particular moment of fixed-eye brilliance that totally nails the ’72-vintage Jagger: dig the intro to “Love In Vain”, where we see nothing more than Mick’s hand on the mic, still sheathed on the stand against a totally-black background. There’s the hand, garnished with a garish pinkie ring; a wrist-full of spangled bracelets; and the sleeve of his jumpsuit, hiked up mid-forearm in the heat – and nothing more. As the opening arpeggiated chords are slowly picked back in the shadows, Jagger’s fingers barely move – it’s as if they’re fighting the urge – suddenly flicking out when the guitar hits the turnaround, perfectly in sync with the abrupt chop of the G7 chord. A simple moment, but startling nonetheless.
Included on the newly-released DVD are interviews with both a then- and a now-Mick, along with some pre-tour rehearsal footage. (Of the three practices sessions, the “Bluesberry Jam” with Keith twisting out a nasty lead while perched on his amp is fun; a run through “Tumbling Dice” is surprisingly ragged, with Taylor totally wandering off into the weeds at one point during the jam on the outro.)
In the end, the bonuses are cool, but the original concert footage is what this DVD is all about. Ladies & Gentlemen … The Rolling Stones is a document of the Mick Taylor-era Stones at their gritty and sweat-soaked finest.
If you needed a time capsule item to best explain to future civilizations what rock ‘n’ roll was all about, this movie is it.
