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...camera shots of the performers, that it might have been easy to overlook the relatively miniscule Rolling Stones themselves, to not fully realize that the ubiquitous sound and energy was actually being created right there before us by real men with guitars and drums. Yet somehow the Stones, Mick Jagger in particular, did not have to compete for attention with their surroundings as lesser showmen might have, but instead thrived on them, became one with them and seemed to control every aspect of them...

Author: By Jonathan B. Dinerstein, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Rolling Stones: Still No Moss | 10/24/1997 | See Source »

Everything about Mick Jagger was exaggerated, starting with his mouth, which, when wide open, seemed to occupy a much greater area of his face than it should. His movements were distinctive and ostentatious; he flailed his arms out at the audience, fingers extended and wrists bent back, kicked up his legs, bent at the knees. His whole dance seemed to be inspired by some kind of stilted stylish treading of water, and he did it freely and extemporaneously all around the stage. There were catwalks set up from the stage out towards the sides of the field, which Mick danced...

Author: By Jonathan B. Dinerstein, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Rolling Stones: Still No Moss | 10/24/1997 | See Source »

...just a metaphor. Look at me. Don't I remind you of anything?... It doesn't need a genius to see what's going on. Greater London, c'est moi." Fittingly, the city will be the meeting place between Judy and the novel's hero-oid, Mick...

Author: By David B. Waller, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Hemorrhaging Novel | 10/17/1997 | See Source »

...Mick's reasons for jaunting to London from his home in Sheffield are quite different from Judy's--less hokey maybe, but not much more believable. Mick speeds to the city in order to exact revenge on six men who (he is told) raped his girlfriend, Gabby, after her act at a private strip-show. As he knows nothing about the city, Mick ducks into a bookstore to buy a map, but comically, he accomplishes little more than entertaining us with the plop-thud of his wooden dialogue: "'What's your name?' Mick asked. She hesitated before saying, 'Judy. Judy...

Author: By David B. Waller, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Hemorrhaging Novel | 10/17/1997 | See Source »

Interspersed throughout this dramaless drama are scenes of Mick's idiosyncratic revenge, his growing doubt (jeepers!) about Gabby's claims of rape and his unerotic tryst with Judy. Gradually, a hilarious irony unfolds: Mick, the most over-touted character in the book ("Meaningless violence was not his style" or "Running was no more his style than waiting...") is in fact a pathetic negative image of King Midas--everything he touches becomes dull. All the sex that he witnesses or takes part in is at some point described as "athletic," and every character with whom he converses stoops to his moronic...

Author: By David B. Waller, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Hemorrhaging Novel | 10/17/1997 | See Source »

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