Hidden Flick: Exile on Glimmer Street
[Originally Published April 18, 2008] The recent release of Shine a Light had all the veteran rock critics throwing roses to the Stones and Scorsese. Others marveled at the Mt. Rushmore crevices on the weathered faces of the Glimmer Twins. Mick Jagger and Keith Richards do, indeed, look about 2,000 light years past “elegantly wasted” at this point—not to mention the miracle man, Charlie Watts, on the kit, Foghorn Leghorn on rhythm guitar, and that cat that AIN’T Bill Wyman still holding the bass notes all down the line.
Actually, the flick is damn good. Martin Scorsese is still a master at rapid pacing, wicked close-ups and quicksilver edit cuts. Marty is also America’s Best Director (to watch if you just scored a huge bag of blow). The Stones are not the Greatest Rock ‘n’ Roll Band in the World—that was more of a sweet bit of chutzpah spoken by a road manager rather than an actual claim. Hell, for a few moments in 1969 when The Who wasn’t touring behind Tommy, Hendrix wasn’t napalming the hippies in upstate New York, Iggy wasn’t stroking blades, Zeppelin was in between tours, groupies, mud sharks, Acapulco gold, Ballantine beer and a heaping pile of coke, that rock crown claim may have been true.
But by the early ’70s, the Stones had begun a love affair with the jet setters, Jann Wenners, Truman (Where’s Waldo?) Capotes and scenemakers on the edge of rock music and, for all intents and purposes, that trip really never changed much. Except, of course, the Twins got older, stopped doing loads of drugs, cut back on inspired songwriting and, in their fifties, started to tour way more often than they ever had in the past. Money, my friends, will get anyone off the velvet couch and onto the sprawling stage amidst 40-year old songs and a frontman who defies time, taste and a treadmill. Read on for more of this week’s Hidden Flick…
