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CHARLIE IS OUR DARLING
Ever since the first show I saw with Mom in Denver in ’94 (the amazing culmination of all the years listening to her scratchy vinyls) to the last with Pop in Seattle in 2019, a Stones concert was like a grand pagan spectacle, a throwback to a more legendary, sophisticated time in rock and pop music. But beneath the massed woo-woos on “Sympathy For The Devil”, the fireworks, videoscreens and Vegas glare, Charlie Watts was the dignified centre. During band introductions he was always introduced last, to the loudest cheers and applause, Keith and Ronnie genuflecting to his drum-stand. Everyone knew his value. He wasn’t an atom-bomb smasher like John Bonham or human octopus like Keith Moon, he just knew the right tempo and beat to complement Mick and Keith’s songs – though he did have his stand-out moments. Listen to his Indian tabla on “Factory Girl” or the fills on “Mother’s Little Helper” and “Loving Cup”.