Tower Theater. We hear some Stones fanatics were ready to pay thousands to
see their beloved rockers at this relatively intimate, 3,500 seat venue in Upper
Darby. (Tickets sold out in a literal minute at a mere $50 a pop - plus service
charges.) But to ensure this "give back to the fans" didn't wind up a
scalpers' bonanza, a photo ID and wrist band were needed to enter the hall.
So was the Philly finale worth all the fuss and anticipation? Only if you
could get off on the Stones playing like the world's greatest soul-rock revue
band in some steamy bar on a Saturday night.
In a word, this night was magic.
Stripped down to their production essence, lacking video frills, ramps for
Mick to romp, and even his sometime sexual/vocal foil Lisa Fischer (who was
ailing), the Stones put the emphasis back where it belonged, on the music.
"It's gonna be our best one yet," Mick vowed early on. For much of
this two hour set, they snubbed the hits in favor of funky second tier catalogue
numbers that let the band members stretch out and bounce around. Primo examples
included "Everybody Needs Somebody To Love," a cover that goes all the
way back to their 1965 third album "Now," the gospely "Hand of
Faith" from '75's "Black & Blue" (Wood's band debut) and
their brief foray into disco funk "Hot Stuff."
Of the songs they repeated from the earlier Philly "Licks" shows,
only last night's good, not great, "Can't You Hear Me Knockin'" didn't
shred the hell out of the previous reads.
So how can we convince the guys to just play a month at the Tower their next
time around?
Tower grade: A+
At 3 sites, the Stones rolled like thunder
By Tom Moon
Inquirer Music Critic
The Rolling Stones' five-day siege of Philadelphia - which ended Sunday at
the Tower Theater, the smallest of the band's three area venues - gave fans the
inevitable big hits and pyrotechnic eruptions, the tongue-lolling come-hither
postures and defiant chants of street-fighting men, several well-chosen covers,
and even more long-neglected minor classics.
It also offered a workshop on how pure enthusiasm can trump, or at least
momentarily outwit, age and its alleged limitations.
As has been observed endlessly, the self-proclaimed World's Greatest
Rock-and-Roll Band is hurtling toward the retirement bracket, and is now as
notable for its "we're still here" tenacity as anything else. But
surviving on rock-veteran autopilot is one kind of feat; performing with the
ruthless intensity the Rolling Stones displayed is quite another.
At each of their Licks Tour venues - which also included Veterans Stadium on
Wednesday and the First Union Center on Friday - the Stones turned up for work
as though something important was on the line. They came out breathing fire and
didn't stop, an iconic institution yanking itself from the safety of the history
books into the messy here-and-now through sheer force of will. And spiky
rhythm-guitar riffs. And that almighty riveting backbeat.
It was something to witness, this crew of over-50 road warriors, working
without crutches such as TelePrompTers, digging deep to locate new approaches to
"Honky Tonk Women" and "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction,"
seeking musical peaks uniquely suited to each setting.
Much of the credit goes to Mick Jagger, who was in remarkably strong voice
throughout the run. The famous mouth interpreted the songs with lacerating
conviction and none of the dismissive glances he's given them on previous
stadium outings.
Watching him up close at the Tower was like seeing Superman ready to bust out
of the phone booth. His gestures were outsized and exaggerated in the
2,900-capacity theater, each move pushing the music upward. Jagger has no peer
as a pop showman: As he jerked and pouted through the emotional ripples of
"Hot Stuff" and "Heart of Stone," he was part clown and part
cheerleader, doing whatever was necessary to take the crowd higher.
From the very first chorus of opener "Jumping Jack Flash" (which
was the last encore at the First Union), Jagger fed greedily on the energy he
helped to create, and celebrated, openly, what many younger rock figureheads
have failed to grasp: If you don't embody every sassy ripple of the songs, if
you don't believe in them, nobody listening will either.
Save for a massive lighting rig, Sunday's Tower show had none of the
elaborate production of the Vet and First Union Center, where the audiences
numbered roughly 38,500 and 20,000, respectively. There was no fancy staging, no
video screen plastered with the tongue logo. (Perhaps sensing a lost
merchandising opportunity, Jagger appeared after guitarist Keith Richards' two
vocal numbers wearing a black muscle shirt emblazoned with the trademark tongue.
It was the most curiously unsubtle gesture of the night.)
The absence of gee-gaws was a blessing to fans who have witnessed the Stones
become puppets in elaborate tableaus of their own creation. Sunday's intimate
setting offered the chance to focus on the outfit's musical and personal
chemistry, not the media myth, and it didn't disappoint. Among the highlights
were an impressively loose version of "Rocks Off" and a greatly
expanded "Can't You Hear Me Knocking," which began as a wobbly groove
and gathered steam slowly, inspiring remarkable solos from the revitalized Ron
Wood on guitar and Jagger on pitch-bending blues harmonica.
For all the buzz attached to the Tower show, the First Union concert (which,
like the Vet date, wasn't a sellout) proved the most consistently awesome
evening of the three. Happy to be indoors and comfortable with the scale of an
arena, the band put a little extra heat on everything. It was only the ninth
show of the Licks Tour, but the Stones made it seem like the 99th, particularly
when Wood and Richards engaged in a guitar duel during a definitive treatment of
"Gimme Shelter," and when Jagger, singing from a satellite stage on
the arena floor, scatted through the falsetto howl of "Miss You."
Watching the Stones three nights out of five was to learn there are different
ways to achieve "Satisfaction": in the ballistic, stadium-rattling
encore of Wednesday, the more nuanced arena-rock stomp dropped casually into
Friday's set, and by not hearing it at all, as was the case at the Tower. It
wasn't missed: Though diehards probably grumbled at some of Sunday's song
selections (A third night of "Start Me Up"? Is "Hot
Stuff" really worthy of an update?), even the jaded had to admit that
staples such as "Brown Sugar" and "Tumbling Dice" were
executed with enough boogaloo grease and who-cares looseness to make them almost
like new songs.
That's one indication of just how intense these shows all were: Even during
the perfunctory hits, stuff hard-core fans can hardly be bothered with, the
Rolling Stones sparked off each other like a bunch of young hell-raisers, and
they didn't let up until they had exhausted every possibility.
Tower
Theater, Upper Darby in Philadelphia
