Word: jagger
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...struts Mick Jagger with a snigger, dressed entirely in black, a long pinkish scarf hanging from his neck, an Uncle Sam hat straight from Chappaqua on his head. The omega-like sign of Leo, fiery and domineering, the sign of a king, is printed on his chest. "Well alright," he shouts at the audience, looking the perverse offspring of a Rimbaud or a Wilde, and like a voodoo prince he pumps his hips twice and begins to dance. Pouting, leering, his fat lips flapping, his eyes hopped in derision, he is the shaman, the witch we have waited...
...with a force whose pure violence is unequalled by any other drummer. His elementary patterns are cretinous because the Stones like it that way, not, as detractors would have it, because he can't play any other way, (A high-point of the New York concert was he and Jagger in a between-songs duet; Jagger would yell, "Alright !" and Charlie would respond with masterful drum riffs.) Laid over the percussion are Wyman's restrained bass lines, and this combination provides the thrust and visceral power of the Stones' music. With the drum/bass as floor, the two guitars fight...
...Jagger's body is the real excitement of the Stones today, the sole vehicle for their celebration, so the burden of arousing the crowd, of embracing and proving all our dreams of the Stones-violent, sensual, perverse, etc.-rests on him: we must remake the concert with his image. And it's hard to maintain the tempo of abuse that we demand of him, even with all our fantasies riding on his every move. After all, someone in the MC5 took a shit on stage in Seattle; Morrison whipped his cock out in Florida. What else can a poor...
...WHEN they break into "Carol," an old Chuck Berry number, Jagger has to work out harder than he ever had to before. He has an accomplished body, schooled in mime, and on stage he's all flash and sex, pure wildness, the natural pop idol, Neither his body not his face betray any clear sexual commitment, it's all energy, sick and mannered, a come-on for male and female alike, a ferocious invitation to a cosmic gang bang where penises and breasts, vaginas and asses will intermingle without valence. His hands are wonderfully expressive, what Attend may have...
After "Carol" the band went into a sloppy "Sympathy for the Devil." Jagger introduced himself as the devil and the audience burst into applause in recognition of its own dreams of what Mick Jagger doing "Sympathy for the Devil" would be like, and sure enough, when I asked people later they could have sworn they heard calypso. Most disappointing about this particular song, and most of Jagger's vocal performance for that matter, was the absence, up until "Satisfaction," of any vocal improvisation. Much of the Stones' dynamic relies on Jagger's talent for splintering and then remaking the vocal...