Vraie dédicace, mais vraie flemme aussi à relire le bouquin via l'édition revue et corrigée... Plus tard. Peut-être. Allez on lui doit une fière chandelle à ce bouquin plein de défauts.
dimanche, novembre 28, 2004
CD gratuit mais pas à jeter...
C'était le CD joint au Uncut de 2002 :
Pas de dédicace perso du maître (j'aurais bien voulu !),
mais une belle compil de ce qui était présenté comme
quelques uns de ses morceaux préférés.
samedi, novembre 27, 2004
Anita dit
"Ce que je pense, en revanche, c'est que je faisais peur aux gens. Peut-être parce que je ne venais pas du même milieu social que bien des musiciens, et ne parlons pas de leurs femmes. La culture, l'éducation, le savoir-vivre sont souvent ressentis comme une agression, voire une perversion par ceux qui en manquent." Anita Pallenberg (2002)
lundi, novembre 22, 2004
Godard RS 1968
Encore un autre :
Stones Do Film With Godard
Jagger: "We've always been great admirers of his work"
The Rolling Stones have begun on their first feature film, One By One, with Jean-Luc Godard. It is also a first for the celebrated French director, whose works include Breathless, Masculine-Feminine and La Chinoise -- it will be his first English-language film.
The picture embodies parallel themes of construction and destruction, represented by a London studio where the Stones are involved in a recording session and by a love triangle which ends in suicide, respectively. The Stones' performance provides a "musical embroidery" to the plot.
Godard is employing new experimental camera techniques and lighting effects in his direction. The picture is being produced by Cupid Productions, a new company formed by the Honorable Michael Pearson and actor Iain Quarrier.
Commented Mick Jagger: "We are very excited about this. We have been great admirers of Godard's work for a long time, and have a great respect for him."
(RS 14 - July 20, 1968)
Beggars : la pochette RS 68
Rolling Stone avait mis ça sur son site l'an dernier, des petits articles d'époque. Je ne parviens pas à retrouver celui, croquignolet, sur la confection du gateau de Let it bleed par je ne sais quel cordon bleu britannique (sic !). Cette pièce fut apparemment son morceau de bravoure.
Graffiti Get Stones in Hot Water
"Beggars Banquet" release delayed due to dispute
The Rolling Stones' bathroom wall-graffiti album cover is still a matter of dispute between the Stones and their record companies, Decca (Great Britain) and London (US). "It looks like Beggars Banquet might be a Christmas release now," Mick has been quoted as saying.
Despite meetings between the record companies and Mick Jagger in London and his representative Allen Klein in New York, the fate of the dingy-golden toned album cover is unsure. The companies are claiming that the scene, which has no swear words or actual obscenities, is "in poor taste."
Klein plans to go to England to settle the matter there. He has said, "The record companies will ultimately have no choice in the matter."
London Records has complained that the cover "will be met with resistance by rack jobbers," the men who stock retail outlets. Mick's suggestion that the album be racked in brown paper bags stamped "UNFIT FOR CHILDREN" was rejected.
In another Stones story, the new single "Street Fighting Man" out of the same Beggars Banquet LP has been banned by many radio stations. Chicago stations have altogether banned it because they feared it could incite violence. "They told me that 'Street Fighting Man' was subversive," said Mick. "'Of course it's subversive,' we said. It's stupid to think you can start a revolution with a record. I wish you could!" "It just goes to show how paranoid they are in Chicago," emphasized Keith.
(RS 17 - October 12, 1968)
dimanche, novembre 21, 2004
Rolling Stone 2004
The Stones in Exile in 1972
50 moments that changed the history of rock & roll
This is how singer Mick Jagger described his long, hot summer of 1971 at Nellcôte, guitarist Keith Richards' nineteenth-century villa on the French Riviera, as the Rolling Stones made their greatest album, the 1972 double LP Exile on Main Street: "We recorded in Keith's disgusting basement, which looked like a prison. . . . The humidity was incredible. I couldn't stand it. As soon as I opened my mouth to sing, my voice was gone. It was so humid that all the guitars were out of tune by the time we got to the end of each number."
"It was 120 degrees," Richards recalled. "Everyone sat around sweating and playing with their pants off. That's when I got into Jack Daniel's. You're trying to get backup vocals finished . . . and the voice starts to go: 'This'll give you another half hour.' It's those fumes that do it, man."
A triumph of dedicated primitivism and alcoholic, overheated chaos, Exile on Main Street nailed Jagger, Richards, drummer Charlie Watts, bassist Bill Wyman and guitarist Mick Taylor at their absolute peak and captured the atmosphere at Nellc?te with messy faithfulness. Exile wasn't a studio album (although final overdubs and mixing were done at Sunset Sound in Hollywood) -- it was a rock & roll field recording, much like the old Delta-blues sides over which Jagger and Richards had bonded as schoolboys. As the Stones hammered out the outlaw gallop of "Rocks Off" and the epic dirty soul of "Tumbling Dice" in the cryptlike cellar kitchen, mikes and amps were wired up to tape machines in a mobile studio outside. "You were just going into an era where the music industry was full of these pristine sounds -- and we were going the other way," Richards said, cackling with pride thirty years later.
The Stones literally made Exile on the run. In May '71, they moved to France, citing the excessive taxation and police harassment in their native Britain. Many of the Jagger-Richards songs on Exile reflect the exhaustion and madness of the Stones' personal and public lives at the time ("Torn and Frayed," "Soul Survivor"). Jagger's marriage to Nicaraguan model Bianca Perez Morena de Macias on the eve of the Exile sessions irritated Richards, who wanted his singer's full attention during recording; Richards was at the height of his 1970s heroin addiction and spending a lot of time with American country-rock icon Gram Parsons.
Three weeks after Exile's release on May 12th, 1972, the Stones took that accumulated madness with them on a two-month North American tour that opened with a gate-crashers' riot in Vancouver. An equipment truck was bombed before a show in Montreal; there were no arrests. Jagger and Richards, however, were busted in Rhode Island for allegedly assaulting a photographer and briefly jailed. Backstage, the Stones' entourage included high-tone celebrities such as Andy Warhol, Zsa Zsa Gabor and Truman Capote, and the band's jet became a movable feast of drugs and mile-high sex. Exile cover photographer Robert Frank filmed the high jinks for a documentary, Cocksucker Blues, but a Christmas-season opening in New York was canceled when Frank and the band fell out over issues of control and editing. Three decades later, Cocksucker Blues remains commercially unavailable.
"There was this one bit that seemed to upset a few people, concerning a nude young lady that we had for lunch one afternoon on the plane," said longtime Stones roadie and pianist Ian Stewart. "To be honest, it was all staged for the cameras. After all, this was the Rolling Stones on tour here, mate. We had to make things at least a little bit naughty."
"It was 120 degrees," Richards recalled. "Everyone sat around sweating and playing with their pants off. That's when I got into Jack Daniel's. You're trying to get backup vocals finished . . . and the voice starts to go: 'This'll give you another half hour.' It's those fumes that do it, man."
A triumph of dedicated primitivism and alcoholic, overheated chaos, Exile on Main Street nailed Jagger, Richards, drummer Charlie Watts, bassist Bill Wyman and guitarist Mick Taylor at their absolute peak and captured the atmosphere at Nellc?te with messy faithfulness. Exile wasn't a studio album (although final overdubs and mixing were done at Sunset Sound in Hollywood) -- it was a rock & roll field recording, much like the old Delta-blues sides over which Jagger and Richards had bonded as schoolboys. As the Stones hammered out the outlaw gallop of "Rocks Off" and the epic dirty soul of "Tumbling Dice" in the cryptlike cellar kitchen, mikes and amps were wired up to tape machines in a mobile studio outside. "You were just going into an era where the music industry was full of these pristine sounds -- and we were going the other way," Richards said, cackling with pride thirty years later.
The Stones literally made Exile on the run. In May '71, they moved to France, citing the excessive taxation and police harassment in their native Britain. Many of the Jagger-Richards songs on Exile reflect the exhaustion and madness of the Stones' personal and public lives at the time ("Torn and Frayed," "Soul Survivor"). Jagger's marriage to Nicaraguan model Bianca Perez Morena de Macias on the eve of the Exile sessions irritated Richards, who wanted his singer's full attention during recording; Richards was at the height of his 1970s heroin addiction and spending a lot of time with American country-rock icon Gram Parsons.
Three weeks after Exile's release on May 12th, 1972, the Stones took that accumulated madness with them on a two-month North American tour that opened with a gate-crashers' riot in Vancouver. An equipment truck was bombed before a show in Montreal; there were no arrests. Jagger and Richards, however, were busted in Rhode Island for allegedly assaulting a photographer and briefly jailed. Backstage, the Stones' entourage included high-tone celebrities such as Andy Warhol, Zsa Zsa Gabor and Truman Capote, and the band's jet became a movable feast of drugs and mile-high sex. Exile cover photographer Robert Frank filmed the high jinks for a documentary, Cocksucker Blues, but a Christmas-season opening in New York was canceled when Frank and the band fell out over issues of control and editing. Three decades later, Cocksucker Blues remains commercially unavailable.
"There was this one bit that seemed to upset a few people, concerning a nude young lady that we had for lunch one afternoon on the plane," said longtime Stones roadie and pianist Ian Stewart. "To be honest, it was all staged for the cameras. After all, this was the Rolling Stones on tour here, mate. We had to make things at least a little bit naughty."
Altamont RS 1970
Rock & Roll's Worst Day
The aftermath of Altamont
It was perhaps rock and roll's all-time worst day, December 6th, a day when everything went perfectly wrong. Altamont remains Topic A among the musicians who were there.
After all, it's not every day that a rock and roll band's performance, let alone the Rolling Stones', is accompanied by a knifing, stomping murder within a scream of the stage.
"The violence," Keith Richard told the London Evening Standard, "just in front of the stage was incredible. Looking back I don't think it was a good idea to have Hell's Angels there. But we had them at the suggestion of the Grateful Dead. "The trouble is it's a problem for us either way. If you don't have them to work for you as stewards, they come anyway and cause trouble. "But to be fair, out of the whole 300 Angels working as stewards, the vast majority did what they were supposed to do, which was to regulate the crowds as much as possible without causing any trouble. But there were about ten or twenty who were completely out of their minds -- trying to drive their motorcycles through the middle of the crowds.
"Really, the difference between the open air show we held here in Hyde Park and the one there is amazing. I think it illustrates the difference between the two countries. In Hyde Park everybody had a good time, and there was no trouble. You can put half a million young English people together and they won't start killing each other. That's the difference."
While Richard was satisfying the British press with his incredibly naive view of Western civilization, Meredith Hunter lay dead.
The Maysles Brothers, the film company which had shot the whole Stones' tour, complete with its violent climax at Altamont, had gotten some remarkable footage of Hunter's killing. No less than three cameras had caught the action, and one of them had the entire sequence from the time Hunter was knifed and down, surrounded by Angels. The face of the knifesman was clear, according to Maysles executive producer Porter Bibb.
Which makes it the hottest film property of 1970. Universal Pictures has already weighed in with the highest bid, (reportedly a higher than $1 million guarantee) and will release the movie by early summer.
The principal camera on this sequence was positioned fifteen feet over the stage, on the Grateful Dead's truck, perhaps thirty to thirty-five feet from the spot where Meredith Hunter was fatally stabbed. Amazingly enough, according to Bibb, the whole sequence is perfectly exposed and perfectly in focus. He could not let the press see it, he said, because the killer was too easily identifiable, especially by his Angels' colors on his back. If this information were to get out, Bibb and the Maysles fear they would be killed. They won't tell the cameramen's names for the same reason.
But Bibb was willing to give quite a detailed account of what's on the film, as he sees it. For one thing, the film shows Hunter making at least two charges on the stage during the forty-five minutes before his stabbing. Many others did the same that afternoon.
Then the camera picks up Hunter some eighteen or twenty rows out in the front-stage audience. (According to Rolling Stone's eyewitness account, the incident began at stage left, with an Angel grabbing Hunter's head, then punching him, then chasing him into the crowd, then knifing him in the back, as Hunter ran. It would be at this point that Hunter would appear back in the crowd, about to pull his gun. Which is what happens. Sheriff's detectives investigating the killing believe -- based partly upon photos subpoenaed from Rolling Stone -- that Hunter was at stage left, and was chased back to where the Maysles cameras pick him up.)
A pair of white men, one of them an Angel, run by Hunter, the black man. The Angel apparently brushes his arm. It looks as if Hunter is trying to brush something away where the Angel bumped him. He makes a face at the stage (perhaps a grimace), sticks out his tongue, and, as the lights catch his eyes, they look glazed.
With his right hand he reaches within his lime green suit coat -- the look on his face is extremely agitated -- and pulls a dark object out of his pocket. Simultaneously, he begins lurching forward, but unevenly, so it's difficult to tell what he's doing.
Six or eight Hell's Angels, who are standing at the front of the stage, start toward him, forming what looks like a protective football cup in reverse. A semi-circular cup facing Hunter.
A white girl in a white knit overblouse grabs Hunter's right arm, and appears to be shouting at him. There is a soundtrack, but none of this can be heard, for the Stones are into "Sympathy for the Devil" at high volume. (The girl is evidently Hunter's girl friend, Patty Bredahoff, who affirms that she was wearing a white knit overblouse. She has been instructed to give no interviews by the sheriff's men, and is following orders. Except to tell Rolling Stone that she has no recollection of tugging at Hunter's arm.)
Hunter brushes the girl aside. She grabs his left arm. He keeps on walking, dragging her forward.
The Angels begin to close in on him.
"It seems," says Bibb, "to last a thousand years, but it's maybe only five seconds."
For one fleeting moment, Hunter brings his right arm across the girl's white dress, in the camera's line of sight. There seems clearly to be the outline of a gun, though there's no detail on the object itself.
For that moment, the girl is the center of the action, frantically trying to pull Hunter away.
The crowd steps back.
Behind the semi-circle of Angels, between the stage and their backs, another Angel appears. Another of the cameras catches him reaching down to pick something up. It glints.
This Angel is wearing an orange bandanna around his neck -- probably a handkerchief knotted at his throat-and full Angels' colors. (Meaning that he is a full brother, not a prospective joiner; it was the "prospects," as they are called, who were responsible for a good portion of the earlier violence.)
A few frames later it is clear that he is holding a long silvery knife.
Suddenly he leaps through the air, over the backs of the other Angels, like a halfback slicing through the line.
His arm sweeps up to its highest reach, knife in hand, the knife once again clearly visible.
In one sweeping arc, the Angel grabs Hunter's right hand with his (the Angel's) left, spinning Hunter around so that he is facing away from the Angel, away from the stage--and--down comes the long knife, plunging deep into Hunter's right shoulder blade. The Angel rides Hunter to the ground, knifing him at least once more on the way down, midback. It's a classic street-fighter's move, beautifully executed.
And that is the last we see of Hunter for a long two minutes or so, as the Angels gather, tightly around, keeping everyone else at a distance. Before Hunter disappears, blood stains can be seen widening on his suit.
The coroner says there were five stab wounds. The film accounts for only two, once again suggesting the possibility that Hunter may have been stabbed earlier.
Then Angels and others carry Hunter away.
According to Bibb, the killer splits immediately after the other Angels gather around Hunter and is not seen again in another frame. No telling where he went.
In one frame, just before he is jumped, there is an unmistakable orange flash at the end of the pistol, Bibb adds. It lasts only for this one frame. Bibb is not saying this is a gunshot, and he's not saying it's not. It might be, say, a reflection off someone's watch or glasses. "The Angels say there was a shot fired," says Bibb. "I can't tell you. It's impossible, really, to tell what it is. None of us heard a shot." Bibb was eager to make one point: "This film is not going to exploit the killing. We had decided before Altamont to do a film, before we had seen any film of the killing or any of that. It doesn't hinge on the murder. We don't want to exploit the sensationalism of the thing."
The arrangement with the Stones is that they and the Maysles own the film 50-50 and are coproducing it. The Stones will help with the editing, but the Maysles have creative control over the cutting. This should begin before February.
There will be, in addition to the Altamont scenes, footage from the tour in New York, Boston, Florida, and the recording studio sessions in Muscle Shoals.
David Maysles was quoted in Rolling Stone's first Altamont story as telling one of his camera-men not to shoot one especially grotesque scene, to seek out good vibes instead. It's true, he did say that, according to Maysles executive producer Porter Bibb, but that was before the Maysles had truly grasped that ugliness and violence was the true nature of the day.
"We want to make it clear," Bibb said repeatedly, "that this film is going to be about violence about the relationship between the Stones and their American audience, and about the relationship of both to violence."
It was understood that Allen Klein, the Stones' manager, was going to make some sort of statement concerning Altamont on January 12th. But it never happened, and Klein was said to be en route to England, unavailable for comment, the following day.
Neither did anyone have anything to say about the insurance policy the Stones were said to have taken to pay for any damages during the concert. Plenty of ranchers whose fences were brought down, people whose heads were split, and so on, would like to know about that one.
Though Sam Cutler, who was responsible for paying the Angels $500 worth of beer to police Altamont, claims he's just been taking it easy since Altamont -- "my part in it is finished, it's up to others to take care of the left-over details" -- Sheriff's investigators have spoken with him twice, it is learned.
Detectives Chisholm and Donovan, who are pursuing the murder case for the Alameda County sheriff's department, say it's very nearly together enough to be presented to the District Attorney and the Grand Jury. They have two eye-witnesses, including Patty Bredahoff, Hunter's girlfriend, and are eager to get in touch with the eyewitness quoted in Rolling Stone, since his testimony would make their case that much stronger.
The eyewitness, who preferred to remain anonymous, fearing that the killer and his friends might get him, should be aware that he is one of several who saw it happen, and would not stand alone, and therefore has, the detectives feel, little to fear. To reach them, the phone number is 483-6520.
"It looks good," says Donovan of the information they've got. Asked whether it was an Angel who killed Meredith Hunter, Donovan said that was "reasonable to assume." Porter Bibb, of the Maysles organization, says the killer is quite recognizable in profile, in full face, and in three-quarter view. Donovan agrees (though Rock Scully, one of the Grateful Dead's managers, has seen the same footage repeatedly and claims identification would be very difficult).
One weird Altamont story has to do with a young Berkeley film-maker who claims to have gotten 8 mm footage of the killing. He got home from the affair Saturday and began telling his friends about his amazing film. His house was knocked over the next night, completely rifled. The thief ripped off only his film, nothing else.
Another far-out (and unconfirmed, because the Angels are not talking with the press) report from someone close to the Angels was that they were in possession of Meredith Hunter's pistol, wanted to turn it over to the Sheriff's investigators -- obviously, it would be useful to establish self-defense -- but didn't know how to go about doing it. If true, the Angels evidently solved their own problem. It is learned that investigators have had the gun since shortly after New Year's.
Mrs. Alta Mae Anderson, Meredith Hunter's mother, still had not been contacted by anyone involved with the free concert by January 5th, when she appeared before the Alameda County Planning Commission to request that the Altamont Raceway, where Hunter was killed, be turned into a public park.
"My son's blood is on the land," she said, "and I would like to see the land serve a useful purpose for the youth of Southern Alameda County. I cannot bring my son back, but by your action you may prevent any more wrongful deaths at Altamont."
In the end, the commission voted to allow the speedway to continue holding races, but barred any future rock and roll events, and limited the number of spectators to 3,000.
One sympathetic mother whose own teen-age son was only a few feet from the killing, Mrs. Cayren King, of Oakland, put Mrs. Anderson in touch with Ephraim Margolin, a respected (and tough) San Francisco civil liberties attorney, to represent her interests in the trial that is (reasonably) certain to come.
Meanwhile, many were growing impatient with the length of time it's taken for the District Attorney to move. He hasn't moved yet. Some claim that Alameda County authorities do not want to damage the fragile truce which exists between police and Hell's Angels.
But Rock Scully said it would be a "drag if it has to go through a courtroom scene." He has tried to put Altamont out of his mind, to concentrate on more positive matters. But Scully, the man who worked with Stones road manager Sam Cutler on advance preparations before the Stones' higher managerial echelons arrived in the Bay Area, says everybody he knows "is still upset about the whole thing."
"We were all dupes," he says, rather cryptically. "The thing wasn't ever straight. Everybody got had."
Having met with the Angels a couple of times, Scully says they don't dig having the film shown, because they feel it would be exploitation of the Angels.
(Another source says that the Maysles showed the film to the Angels in San Francisco, privately, and that the Angels' leaders demanded $6000 each for nine different California chapters. A total of $54,000. No confirmation on this from the Maysles. The Angels are said to have demanded the money or else . . .)
In any case, Scully now feels that the whole thing was a disaster, and feels foolish, in a way, about his participation in it.
"The Stones, man," he says, "they wrote the script. They got what they paid for. Let it bleed, man. There's never gonna be another one like it. Anybody should have seen this would have happened -- this whole trip, man -- if somebody tried to buy another Woodstock. We should have seen it, but we couldn't see that."
JOHN BURKS(RS 51 - February 7, 1970)
The aftermath of Altamont
It was perhaps rock and roll's all-time worst day, December 6th, a day when everything went perfectly wrong. Altamont remains Topic A among the musicians who were there.
After all, it's not every day that a rock and roll band's performance, let alone the Rolling Stones', is accompanied by a knifing, stomping murder within a scream of the stage.
"The violence," Keith Richard told the London Evening Standard, "just in front of the stage was incredible. Looking back I don't think it was a good idea to have Hell's Angels there. But we had them at the suggestion of the Grateful Dead. "The trouble is it's a problem for us either way. If you don't have them to work for you as stewards, they come anyway and cause trouble. "But to be fair, out of the whole 300 Angels working as stewards, the vast majority did what they were supposed to do, which was to regulate the crowds as much as possible without causing any trouble. But there were about ten or twenty who were completely out of their minds -- trying to drive their motorcycles through the middle of the crowds.
"Really, the difference between the open air show we held here in Hyde Park and the one there is amazing. I think it illustrates the difference between the two countries. In Hyde Park everybody had a good time, and there was no trouble. You can put half a million young English people together and they won't start killing each other. That's the difference."
While Richard was satisfying the British press with his incredibly naive view of Western civilization, Meredith Hunter lay dead.
The Maysles Brothers, the film company which had shot the whole Stones' tour, complete with its violent climax at Altamont, had gotten some remarkable footage of Hunter's killing. No less than three cameras had caught the action, and one of them had the entire sequence from the time Hunter was knifed and down, surrounded by Angels. The face of the knifesman was clear, according to Maysles executive producer Porter Bibb.
Which makes it the hottest film property of 1970. Universal Pictures has already weighed in with the highest bid, (reportedly a higher than $1 million guarantee) and will release the movie by early summer.
The principal camera on this sequence was positioned fifteen feet over the stage, on the Grateful Dead's truck, perhaps thirty to thirty-five feet from the spot where Meredith Hunter was fatally stabbed. Amazingly enough, according to Bibb, the whole sequence is perfectly exposed and perfectly in focus. He could not let the press see it, he said, because the killer was too easily identifiable, especially by his Angels' colors on his back. If this information were to get out, Bibb and the Maysles fear they would be killed. They won't tell the cameramen's names for the same reason.
But Bibb was willing to give quite a detailed account of what's on the film, as he sees it. For one thing, the film shows Hunter making at least two charges on the stage during the forty-five minutes before his stabbing. Many others did the same that afternoon.
Then the camera picks up Hunter some eighteen or twenty rows out in the front-stage audience. (According to Rolling Stone's eyewitness account, the incident began at stage left, with an Angel grabbing Hunter's head, then punching him, then chasing him into the crowd, then knifing him in the back, as Hunter ran. It would be at this point that Hunter would appear back in the crowd, about to pull his gun. Which is what happens. Sheriff's detectives investigating the killing believe -- based partly upon photos subpoenaed from Rolling Stone -- that Hunter was at stage left, and was chased back to where the Maysles cameras pick him up.)
A pair of white men, one of them an Angel, run by Hunter, the black man. The Angel apparently brushes his arm. It looks as if Hunter is trying to brush something away where the Angel bumped him. He makes a face at the stage (perhaps a grimace), sticks out his tongue, and, as the lights catch his eyes, they look glazed.
With his right hand he reaches within his lime green suit coat -- the look on his face is extremely agitated -- and pulls a dark object out of his pocket. Simultaneously, he begins lurching forward, but unevenly, so it's difficult to tell what he's doing.
Six or eight Hell's Angels, who are standing at the front of the stage, start toward him, forming what looks like a protective football cup in reverse. A semi-circular cup facing Hunter.
A white girl in a white knit overblouse grabs Hunter's right arm, and appears to be shouting at him. There is a soundtrack, but none of this can be heard, for the Stones are into "Sympathy for the Devil" at high volume. (The girl is evidently Hunter's girl friend, Patty Bredahoff, who affirms that she was wearing a white knit overblouse. She has been instructed to give no interviews by the sheriff's men, and is following orders. Except to tell Rolling Stone that she has no recollection of tugging at Hunter's arm.)
Hunter brushes the girl aside. She grabs his left arm. He keeps on walking, dragging her forward.
The Angels begin to close in on him.
"It seems," says Bibb, "to last a thousand years, but it's maybe only five seconds."
For one fleeting moment, Hunter brings his right arm across the girl's white dress, in the camera's line of sight. There seems clearly to be the outline of a gun, though there's no detail on the object itself.
For that moment, the girl is the center of the action, frantically trying to pull Hunter away.
The crowd steps back.
Behind the semi-circle of Angels, between the stage and their backs, another Angel appears. Another of the cameras catches him reaching down to pick something up. It glints.
This Angel is wearing an orange bandanna around his neck -- probably a handkerchief knotted at his throat-and full Angels' colors. (Meaning that he is a full brother, not a prospective joiner; it was the "prospects," as they are called, who were responsible for a good portion of the earlier violence.)
A few frames later it is clear that he is holding a long silvery knife.
Suddenly he leaps through the air, over the backs of the other Angels, like a halfback slicing through the line.
His arm sweeps up to its highest reach, knife in hand, the knife once again clearly visible.
In one sweeping arc, the Angel grabs Hunter's right hand with his (the Angel's) left, spinning Hunter around so that he is facing away from the Angel, away from the stage--and--down comes the long knife, plunging deep into Hunter's right shoulder blade. The Angel rides Hunter to the ground, knifing him at least once more on the way down, midback. It's a classic street-fighter's move, beautifully executed.
And that is the last we see of Hunter for a long two minutes or so, as the Angels gather, tightly around, keeping everyone else at a distance. Before Hunter disappears, blood stains can be seen widening on his suit.
The coroner says there were five stab wounds. The film accounts for only two, once again suggesting the possibility that Hunter may have been stabbed earlier.
Then Angels and others carry Hunter away.
According to Bibb, the killer splits immediately after the other Angels gather around Hunter and is not seen again in another frame. No telling where he went.
In one frame, just before he is jumped, there is an unmistakable orange flash at the end of the pistol, Bibb adds. It lasts only for this one frame. Bibb is not saying this is a gunshot, and he's not saying it's not. It might be, say, a reflection off someone's watch or glasses. "The Angels say there was a shot fired," says Bibb. "I can't tell you. It's impossible, really, to tell what it is. None of us heard a shot." Bibb was eager to make one point: "This film is not going to exploit the killing. We had decided before Altamont to do a film, before we had seen any film of the killing or any of that. It doesn't hinge on the murder. We don't want to exploit the sensationalism of the thing."
The arrangement with the Stones is that they and the Maysles own the film 50-50 and are coproducing it. The Stones will help with the editing, but the Maysles have creative control over the cutting. This should begin before February.
There will be, in addition to the Altamont scenes, footage from the tour in New York, Boston, Florida, and the recording studio sessions in Muscle Shoals.
David Maysles was quoted in Rolling Stone's first Altamont story as telling one of his camera-men not to shoot one especially grotesque scene, to seek out good vibes instead. It's true, he did say that, according to Maysles executive producer Porter Bibb, but that was before the Maysles had truly grasped that ugliness and violence was the true nature of the day.
"We want to make it clear," Bibb said repeatedly, "that this film is going to be about violence about the relationship between the Stones and their American audience, and about the relationship of both to violence."
It was understood that Allen Klein, the Stones' manager, was going to make some sort of statement concerning Altamont on January 12th. But it never happened, and Klein was said to be en route to England, unavailable for comment, the following day.
Neither did anyone have anything to say about the insurance policy the Stones were said to have taken to pay for any damages during the concert. Plenty of ranchers whose fences were brought down, people whose heads were split, and so on, would like to know about that one.
Though Sam Cutler, who was responsible for paying the Angels $500 worth of beer to police Altamont, claims he's just been taking it easy since Altamont -- "my part in it is finished, it's up to others to take care of the left-over details" -- Sheriff's investigators have spoken with him twice, it is learned.
Detectives Chisholm and Donovan, who are pursuing the murder case for the Alameda County sheriff's department, say it's very nearly together enough to be presented to the District Attorney and the Grand Jury. They have two eye-witnesses, including Patty Bredahoff, Hunter's girlfriend, and are eager to get in touch with the eyewitness quoted in Rolling Stone, since his testimony would make their case that much stronger.
The eyewitness, who preferred to remain anonymous, fearing that the killer and his friends might get him, should be aware that he is one of several who saw it happen, and would not stand alone, and therefore has, the detectives feel, little to fear. To reach them, the phone number is 483-6520.
"It looks good," says Donovan of the information they've got. Asked whether it was an Angel who killed Meredith Hunter, Donovan said that was "reasonable to assume." Porter Bibb, of the Maysles organization, says the killer is quite recognizable in profile, in full face, and in three-quarter view. Donovan agrees (though Rock Scully, one of the Grateful Dead's managers, has seen the same footage repeatedly and claims identification would be very difficult).
One weird Altamont story has to do with a young Berkeley film-maker who claims to have gotten 8 mm footage of the killing. He got home from the affair Saturday and began telling his friends about his amazing film. His house was knocked over the next night, completely rifled. The thief ripped off only his film, nothing else.
Another far-out (and unconfirmed, because the Angels are not talking with the press) report from someone close to the Angels was that they were in possession of Meredith Hunter's pistol, wanted to turn it over to the Sheriff's investigators -- obviously, it would be useful to establish self-defense -- but didn't know how to go about doing it. If true, the Angels evidently solved their own problem. It is learned that investigators have had the gun since shortly after New Year's.
Mrs. Alta Mae Anderson, Meredith Hunter's mother, still had not been contacted by anyone involved with the free concert by January 5th, when she appeared before the Alameda County Planning Commission to request that the Altamont Raceway, where Hunter was killed, be turned into a public park.
"My son's blood is on the land," she said, "and I would like to see the land serve a useful purpose for the youth of Southern Alameda County. I cannot bring my son back, but by your action you may prevent any more wrongful deaths at Altamont."
In the end, the commission voted to allow the speedway to continue holding races, but barred any future rock and roll events, and limited the number of spectators to 3,000.
One sympathetic mother whose own teen-age son was only a few feet from the killing, Mrs. Cayren King, of Oakland, put Mrs. Anderson in touch with Ephraim Margolin, a respected (and tough) San Francisco civil liberties attorney, to represent her interests in the trial that is (reasonably) certain to come.
Meanwhile, many were growing impatient with the length of time it's taken for the District Attorney to move. He hasn't moved yet. Some claim that Alameda County authorities do not want to damage the fragile truce which exists between police and Hell's Angels.
But Rock Scully said it would be a "drag if it has to go through a courtroom scene." He has tried to put Altamont out of his mind, to concentrate on more positive matters. But Scully, the man who worked with Stones road manager Sam Cutler on advance preparations before the Stones' higher managerial echelons arrived in the Bay Area, says everybody he knows "is still upset about the whole thing."
"We were all dupes," he says, rather cryptically. "The thing wasn't ever straight. Everybody got had."
Having met with the Angels a couple of times, Scully says they don't dig having the film shown, because they feel it would be exploitation of the Angels.
(Another source says that the Maysles showed the film to the Angels in San Francisco, privately, and that the Angels' leaders demanded $6000 each for nine different California chapters. A total of $54,000. No confirmation on this from the Maysles. The Angels are said to have demanded the money or else . . .)
In any case, Scully now feels that the whole thing was a disaster, and feels foolish, in a way, about his participation in it.
"The Stones, man," he says, "they wrote the script. They got what they paid for. Let it bleed, man. There's never gonna be another one like it. Anybody should have seen this would have happened -- this whole trip, man -- if somebody tried to buy another Woodstock. We should have seen it, but we couldn't see that."
JOHN BURKS(RS 51 - February 7, 1970)
Exile - Greenfield
EXILE
The making of EXILE ON MAIN ST.
By Robert Greenfield
In the spring of 1971, the Rolling Stones, the number one outlaw band in the world, were forced for tax reasons to leave England and go into exile in the South of France. Along with his companion, the very glamorous Anita Pallenberg, and their young son Marlon (named after the actor Marlon Brando), Keith Richards set up housekeeping in a sumptuous white mansion overlooking the sparkling blue Mediterranean.
Over the course of the next six months as the Stones recorded their landmark double album Exile On Main St. in the basement of Villa Nellcôte, an international cast of rock musicians, artists, writers, dope dealers and jet set hangers-on came and went, joining a party which never ended in a house which soon became ground zero for the hip universe, circa 1971.
At Villa Nellcôte, at least for a little while, no wish was too extreme. Anything seemed possible and twenty-two for lunch was never out of the question. If no one actually seemed to have a last name or really do very much to earn a living, so be it. This was life on the grand scale, meant to be lived as though some unseen movie camera was perpetually whirring just beyond the frame of a shared reality which never was in doubt.
With the Shirelles playing loudly in the background and all dialogue by Noel Coward and William Burroughs, the mise-en-scène was straight out of F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender Is The Night. Keith and Anita were the Dick and Nicole Diver of rock. They were the real life reincarnation of Gerald and Sara Murphy, the Jazz Age couple upon whom Fitzgerald had based his characters.
Although no one knew it then, Keith and Anita were also the prototype for all the great self-destructive rock couples to follow - Sid and Nancy, Kurt and Courtney, and yes, even Pamela and Tommy Lee. Keith, he played in a rock 'n' roll band and Anita, she was a movie star queen. Both then and now, no more need be said. Even today, the original is still the greatest.
As Gerald Murphy himself once noted, living well may in fact be the best revenge. At Villa Nellcôte, no one ever bothered to get up early. Sleep was for all the little people down the hill. At Villa Nellcôte, careers were made and lives ruined. Marriages fell apart and brand new relationships began. Hand in hand through the villa's marble halls at night, the ghost of Brian Jones, founder of the Rolling Stones, then dead for just two short years, walked with the spirit of Gram Parsons, Keith's brilliant songwriter friend who in a few short years would himself be dead.
Having only just arguably recorded the three best albums in rock back-to-back-to-back (Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed and Sticky Fingers), the Rolling Stones went to work in the blazing summer heat of the French Riviera on the double album which has come to be hailed as their great masterpiece.
The acute sense of dislocation which lies at the core of Exile On Main St. accurately reflects a moment in time when even the Rolling Stones were forced to recognize that they were indeed strangers in a very strange land. Working conditions at the villa were primitive and hellish. Night after night, the Stones descended like coal miners in Wales into the basement to record and re-record tracks which Mick and Keith had sometimes only just written. The very next night, they went back down to do it all over again. The fine line between ecstasy and addiction, not to mention also the one separating creativity from madness, was breached so often on a nightly basis at Villa Nellcôte that by the time the sun came up on yet another day, it was no longer possible to tell one from the other.
Soon enough, it became clear to one and all that the high black iron gates of the villa, initially built to keep out the rabble, were now there to keep everyone inside Nellcôte until the album was done. Exile On Main St., which continues to be the defining record of its time, is now joined by Exile, a brilliant collection of remarkable photographs by Dominique Tarlé, who lived for months at the villa yet somehow managed to survive to tell the tale.
In Exile, all the most significant figures from Villa Nellcôte tell for the first time the behind-the-scenes story of a moment in popular culture which will not come again. Never before has the making of a landmark rock album been documented so thoroughly. A signal accomplishment in the history of rock photography, Exile also contains the first full, unexpurgated version of the August, 1971 Rolling Stone interview I conducted with Keith Richards at Villa Nellcôte. Along with a never before published memoir of my time of service at Nellcôte, Exile also features "Goodbye, Great Britain", my account of the Stones' farewell tour of England as well as the report I filed from Los Angeles a year later on the release of the album as the Stones began their historic 1972 tour of America.
A priceless and unique document, Exile vividly portrays a turning point in time when rock was still a lifestyle and a vocation rather than an industry. Those who lived at Villa Nellcôte were not there for the money but for the music. That the music itself was more than enough to sustain them can be seen on every page of Exile. In order to relive that time, simply slip the Stones' double album on the turntable, open the pages of Exile, and remember what it was like to be an exile on main street in a world which will never come again.
The making of EXILE ON MAIN ST.
By Robert Greenfield
In the spring of 1971, the Rolling Stones, the number one outlaw band in the world, were forced for tax reasons to leave England and go into exile in the South of France. Along with his companion, the very glamorous Anita Pallenberg, and their young son Marlon (named after the actor Marlon Brando), Keith Richards set up housekeeping in a sumptuous white mansion overlooking the sparkling blue Mediterranean.
Over the course of the next six months as the Stones recorded their landmark double album Exile On Main St. in the basement of Villa Nellcôte, an international cast of rock musicians, artists, writers, dope dealers and jet set hangers-on came and went, joining a party which never ended in a house which soon became ground zero for the hip universe, circa 1971.
At Villa Nellcôte, at least for a little while, no wish was too extreme. Anything seemed possible and twenty-two for lunch was never out of the question. If no one actually seemed to have a last name or really do very much to earn a living, so be it. This was life on the grand scale, meant to be lived as though some unseen movie camera was perpetually whirring just beyond the frame of a shared reality which never was in doubt.
With the Shirelles playing loudly in the background and all dialogue by Noel Coward and William Burroughs, the mise-en-scène was straight out of F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender Is The Night. Keith and Anita were the Dick and Nicole Diver of rock. They were the real life reincarnation of Gerald and Sara Murphy, the Jazz Age couple upon whom Fitzgerald had based his characters.
Although no one knew it then, Keith and Anita were also the prototype for all the great self-destructive rock couples to follow - Sid and Nancy, Kurt and Courtney, and yes, even Pamela and Tommy Lee. Keith, he played in a rock 'n' roll band and Anita, she was a movie star queen. Both then and now, no more need be said. Even today, the original is still the greatest.
As Gerald Murphy himself once noted, living well may in fact be the best revenge. At Villa Nellcôte, no one ever bothered to get up early. Sleep was for all the little people down the hill. At Villa Nellcôte, careers were made and lives ruined. Marriages fell apart and brand new relationships began. Hand in hand through the villa's marble halls at night, the ghost of Brian Jones, founder of the Rolling Stones, then dead for just two short years, walked with the spirit of Gram Parsons, Keith's brilliant songwriter friend who in a few short years would himself be dead.
Having only just arguably recorded the three best albums in rock back-to-back-to-back (Beggars Banquet, Let It Bleed and Sticky Fingers), the Rolling Stones went to work in the blazing summer heat of the French Riviera on the double album which has come to be hailed as their great masterpiece.
The acute sense of dislocation which lies at the core of Exile On Main St. accurately reflects a moment in time when even the Rolling Stones were forced to recognize that they were indeed strangers in a very strange land. Working conditions at the villa were primitive and hellish. Night after night, the Stones descended like coal miners in Wales into the basement to record and re-record tracks which Mick and Keith had sometimes only just written. The very next night, they went back down to do it all over again. The fine line between ecstasy and addiction, not to mention also the one separating creativity from madness, was breached so often on a nightly basis at Villa Nellcôte that by the time the sun came up on yet another day, it was no longer possible to tell one from the other.
Soon enough, it became clear to one and all that the high black iron gates of the villa, initially built to keep out the rabble, were now there to keep everyone inside Nellcôte until the album was done. Exile On Main St., which continues to be the defining record of its time, is now joined by Exile, a brilliant collection of remarkable photographs by Dominique Tarlé, who lived for months at the villa yet somehow managed to survive to tell the tale.
In Exile, all the most significant figures from Villa Nellcôte tell for the first time the behind-the-scenes story of a moment in popular culture which will not come again. Never before has the making of a landmark rock album been documented so thoroughly. A signal accomplishment in the history of rock photography, Exile also contains the first full, unexpurgated version of the August, 1971 Rolling Stone interview I conducted with Keith Richards at Villa Nellcôte. Along with a never before published memoir of my time of service at Nellcôte, Exile also features "Goodbye, Great Britain", my account of the Stones' farewell tour of England as well as the report I filed from Los Angeles a year later on the release of the album as the Stones began their historic 1972 tour of America.
A priceless and unique document, Exile vividly portrays a turning point in time when rock was still a lifestyle and a vocation rather than an industry. Those who lived at Villa Nellcôte were not there for the money but for the music. That the music itself was more than enough to sustain them can be seen on every page of Exile. In order to relive that time, simply slip the Stones' double album on the turntable, open the pages of Exile, and remember what it was like to be an exile on main street in a world which will never come again.
Exile (le livre) citations
Extracts From Exile's Ninety Thousand
It wasn't like we were a young married couple on our honeymoon.
We were two guys working. We certainly weren't a bunch of hippies like everyone says. We didn't have time to be hippies. There was too much to do.
Anita Pallenberg
Anita Pallenberg
Suddenly there we all were, living in the South of France. And contrary to what the newspapers thought, which is that we were all joined at the hip and were this big group that lived together, we had never socialised that much. But here, we were suddenly all thrown together in a foreign country, having to see more of each other.
Astrid Lundström (épouse de Bill)
John Lennon came once, but just for one afternoon. As soon as he came, he went off to Keith's bedroom for about three quarters of an hour. Then he came downstairs to say "goodbye", vomited on the carpet and left.
Dominique Tarlé
Dominique Tarlé
I noticed one day that the vents in the floors were decorated with swastikas. When I asked Keith about it, he said, "Oh, it was the Gestapo headquarters during the war. But it's all right - we're in here now."
Andy Johns
Andy Johns
It was all very primitive, and if we were in the middle of a take at two o'clock in the morning and there was a thunderstorm and lots of lightning, we'd have power failure sometimes. We'd sit around in that dingy basement, talking by candlelight until the power came back again. The whole idea of doing an album like that these days would be laughable.
Mick Taylor
Mick Taylor
Once we finished a session and then, on the Saturday night, we got a message that some kids had come in and stolen all the guitars and other things. Thirteen or seventeen guitars and a bass. They came and asked, "Where is Keith?" "Oh, he is in the other room, watching telly." So they came in and nicked everything. They were so free and easy there.
Bill Wyman
Bill Wyman
The cop said, "I have time to spend, here are the five depositions, I'll leave you to read them. Smoke a cigarette or drink a cup of coffee and I'll come back in ten minutes. Tell me what you have to say." One deposition I might argue about, even two or three, but five I couldn't deny. So I went to jail for six months and waited for my trial to come up.
Rene d'Amico
Rene d'Amico
Judges and lawyers came by and remonstrated, "Madame!" But Bianca is like a tiger, she turned on them and said, "C'est mon mari," in other words, "Just try and stop me, my husband's in there!" Everybody backed off.
June Shelley
I went down to Nellcôte with rough mixes of all the material I'd found and remember them listening to them and saying, "God, that's pretty good, what is all this?" One of the tracks that I specifically remember was "Shake Your Hips" which definitely came out of that bunch of tapes. Another one was "Stop Breaking Down", and all the ones with Stu on the piano. There was also a version of the Jimi Hendrix song "Red House".
Trevor Churchill
June Shelley
I went down to Nellcôte with rough mixes of all the material I'd found and remember them listening to them and saying, "God, that's pretty good, what is all this?" One of the tracks that I specifically remember was "Shake Your Hips" which definitely came out of that bunch of tapes. Another one was "Stop Breaking Down", and all the ones with Stu on the piano. There was also a version of the Jimi Hendrix song "Red House".
Trevor Churchill
Mick and I... He found out that I could play a little and he could sing a bit. "I dig to sing," he said, and he also knew Dick Taylor from another school they'd gone to and the thing tied up so we'd try and do something. We'd all go to Dick Taylor's house, in his back room, some other cats would come along and play, and we'd try to play some of this Little Walter and Chuck Berry stuff. No drummer or anything. Just two guitars and a little amplifier. Usual backroom stuff. It fell into place very quickly.
Keith Richards from his 1971 Nellcôte Interview (RS)
Keith Richards from his 1971 Nellcôte Interview (RS)
La belle-soeur... circa 2000
Brotherly love
When Marsha Hansen decided to incorporate her music skills and theological education into a ministry, her brother-in-law gave support and advice. Encouragement from a family member may not seem like much ... unless you happen to be related to Keith Richards.
A year after Marsha married Rodney Hansen, an ELCA pastor, her sister-in-law married Richards, the guitarist for the Rolling Stones, suddenly making her related to one of rock 'n' roll's most notorious men.
But Hansen has never seen the side of Richards that the public does. "I met Keith in 1982 when he and Patti were dating," Hansen said. "I couldn't have named one member of the band back then. From the beginning I was so impressed with his character. He's been so consistent as a good family member.
"It's funny to see it from the inside because you couldn't ask for a better person to know or to trust."
Hansen said when she told Richards about her desire for a music ministry, he encouraged her to sing in front of more people and to feel secure about her talent.
Since then Hansen has followed his advice, performing in churches throughout the San Diego area. She also assists her husband when he is a guest pastor (Rodney Hansen is currently between calls).
"I think music is not an adjunct to worship but part of it," Hansen said. "Sharing music that is not only Christian but also represents my cultural heritage helps bring more of my experience of the role Christ [has played] in my life."
Hansen, with a little help from Richards, is working toward her first record deal and is recording her second CD. But Richards has been more than just a musical adviser.
"Marrying into this Norwegian family, I felt like an outsider," Hansen recalled. "Keith ... made me feel comfortable. He would be the one to lean over and whisper, 'It's OK,' and squeeze my hand." Hansen's CD, I Know the Lord's Laid His Hands on Me (Orchard), is available through.
A year after Marsha married Rodney Hansen, an ELCA pastor, her sister-in-law married Richards, the guitarist for the Rolling Stones, suddenly making her related to one of rock 'n' roll's most notorious men.
But Hansen has never seen the side of Richards that the public does. "I met Keith in 1982 when he and Patti were dating," Hansen said. "I couldn't have named one member of the band back then. From the beginning I was so impressed with his character. He's been so consistent as a good family member.
"It's funny to see it from the inside because you couldn't ask for a better person to know or to trust."
Hansen said when she told Richards about her desire for a music ministry, he encouraged her to sing in front of more people and to feel secure about her talent.
Since then Hansen has followed his advice, performing in churches throughout the San Diego area. She also assists her husband when he is a guest pastor (Rodney Hansen is currently between calls).
"I think music is not an adjunct to worship but part of it," Hansen said. "Sharing music that is not only Christian but also represents my cultural heritage helps bring more of my experience of the role Christ [has played] in my life."
Hansen, with a little help from Richards, is working toward her first record deal and is recording her second CD. But Richards has been more than just a musical adviser.
"Marrying into this Norwegian family, I felt like an outsider," Hansen recalled. "Keith ... made me feel comfortable. He would be the one to lean over and whisper, 'It's OK,' and squeeze my hand." Hansen's CD, I Know the Lord's Laid His Hands on Me (Orchard), is available through.
Building a Bridge to Babylon
Marsha Hansen Brings a New Dimension to the Extended Rolling Stones Family
by Jill Underwood
Summer may be officially over but, somewhere in Connecticut, a barbecue is still smoking and music is still blasting. Not that unusual, except that the music is old African-American spirituals and the home belongs to Rolling Stone Keith Richards. Both are music to the ears of Marsha Hansen.’Keith would open all the doors up so everybody could hear the singing and playing,’ says the Chula Vista singer and mother of three. Richards’ listening sessions were what gave Hansen the inspiration to give up teaching and pursue her dream of singing spirituals professionally.The leap of faith came with encouragement from Richards, who also happens to be Hansen’s brother-in-law. ‘I love her dearly. We started singing around the family,’ remembers Richards. ‘That’s where music comes from. It comes from the heart. When she started getting into it I said, ‘Good luck and get going and I’ll keep an eye on you.’’Richards’ reputation isn’t exactly that of a choir boy. But as a child he was a member of a prestigious youth choir in England that performed before Queen Elizabeth II. Hansen herself is a product of the Southern-pewed singing set. When they met almost 20 years ago, the two heard beautiful music. ‘She’s got a great feeling as a sister,’ says Richards. ‘When we get together, we start to hang around the piano and the guitar and pick out and choose songs.’Hansen returns Richards’ respect and affection, whatever his reputation. ‘You get to know a person’s character over the years,’ defends Hansen. ‘If he says something, you can count on it. He has a lot of integrity and he’s very kind. All the children love Uncle Keith.’ Hansen says she has no problem allowing her lambs to lay down with the lion.And why should she? This is a woman with degrees in theology, sociology and human relations. When she met Rod Hansen 20 years ago, she was a Naval officer in Japan. She knew him as a Navy chaplain long before realizing he was also the brother of international supermodel, Patti Hansen. The two married in 1981 on the aircraft carrier Midway. Patti and Keith married in 1983. At the time, his sister’s union gave Rod Hansen little satisfaction.’I represent the establishment,’ says the 48-year-old Hansen. ‘Quite a different world from where Keith lives, and my first thought was, ‘Of all the people in the world you had to fall in love with, Patti, look what you did!’But the two families eventually grew close and learned how to have fun together. Now, with five children between them, the families have flourished. The Hansen’s even have a favorite Rolling Stones song: ‘Brown Sugar,’ admits Marsha. ‘When our daughter was born, I said, ‘Oh look, Keith. She’s ‘Brown Sugar,’ isn’t she? She even had that played when she walked out as the Homecoming Princess last year.’But it’s her own music Marsha concentrates on these days. Her first CD of African-American spirituals, I Know the Lord’s Laid His Hands on Me, was released late last year. ‘These are songs that are from the pre-Civil War [era],’ Hansen explains. ‘They’re sacred folk songs which rose up from enslaved African-Americans with a rural bent. It distinguishes them from Gospel. Gospel grew from an urban experience.’The project came about after Richards gave Hansen a DAT recording machine and introduced her to keyboardist, Rob Whitlock. Together, Hansen and Whitlock co-produced the debut. Its completion left Hansen flying high, but there were still clouds of concern: Would Richards like it? After all, his musical opinion means more to her than almost anyone’s. ‘He’s an encyclopedia in his knowledge of music. I really don’t know anybody who has the music knowledge he does,’ says Hansen.She didn’t have to worry. Hansen’s disc was like a revelation to the rocker. ‘It’s quite pure as compared to a lot of Gospel singers I know,’ says Richards. ‘It kind of intrigues me, too.’But would Richards have told her if he didn’t like it? ‘Now and again I’ll say ‘You’ve got to hit there on another key,’’ Richards admits. ‘But that’s just me being an old record producer.’And Marsha Hansen can take it. Neither sticks nor Stones will break the bones of her sound, which she describes as ‘personal.’ ‘I like the ethnic characteristics in my voice,’ says Hansen. ‘It’s passionate and rich. You can tell you’re listening to an African-American woman sing.’And she’ll be singing a lot more. A second CD is in the works. And she’s leaving space on at least one track for a few guitar licks -- licks that Richards has promised to fill. What’s this? Keith Richards jamming for the robed one?’I love music, no matter what it is,’ says Richards. ‘Music is music to me. It’s not necessarily the message to me. Whether it’s church music or comes from the Honky Tonks, I don’t mind as long as it’s good.’ Richards even made his own record of soul music years ago, Wingless Angels.So how do you repay a Rolling Stone? If you’re Marsha Hansen, with a gift from the heavens. ‘I gave him a hymn book for his house,’ Hansen laughs. ‘He did sing sacred songs as a little boy, but there was never a hymn book around when I was looking for one. So I said, ‘You have to have this now!’’ You can buy Marsha Hansen’s CD, ‘I Know the Lord’s Laid His Hands on Me,’ at Sam Goody stores or at www.MarshaHansen.iuma.com
Gram Parsons
Un extrait d'un site consacré aux Byrds... (On est en 1968)
In London, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, who knew McGuinn and Hillman from earlier tours together, entertained the band. Parsons was quite taken with their hosts, and privately spoke to them about the tour of South Africa scheduled for July. Richards remembers talking to Parsons about apartheid and telling him bluntly, "Well, put it this way: We wouldn't go."
In July, the Byrds returned to England for a charity concert at the Royal Albert Hall, after which they were to leave for South Africa. The night before their departure, Parsons announced he would not be going along because of South Africa's racial policies. In response, McGuinn and Hillman fired him from the band.
None of his friends or associates believed that anti-apartheid sentiment was the real reason Parsons quit, perhaps because of his history of stretching the truth. Hillman, who was furious with Parsons for leaving the band in such a jam, believed that he just wanted to hang out with the Rolling Stones. Byrds roadie Carlos Bernal, who subbed for Parsons on the South African tour, thought that Parsons quit the band because "he couldn't have things just exactly how he wanted them.... He wanted a steel guitar to do a lot of his tunes. He wanted a lot of things the band wasn't prepared to jump into overnight."
The most charitable theory was that this was an early manifestation of his fear of flying, triggered by the thought of the long flight from London to Johannesburg via the Canary Islands. Hillman also thinks this may have been a contributing factor.
In any event, Parsons retreated to Redlands, the country estate of Keith Richards. There the two got to know each other, while Parsons enthused to Richards and Jagger about his favorite country records.
After the Byrds:
Back home, Nancy Ross had recently given birth to a daughter, Polly Parsons. Parsons had planned a large wedding -- a Hank Williams-style media event -- and commissioned a $1,000 wedding dress from Nudie's Rodeo Tailors. Despite, or perhaps because of, the birth of their child, Parsons and Ross had drifted apart. The dress was never used, though it was immortalized years later in the Parsons song "$1,000 Wedding."
In the late summer of '68, Richards and Parsons rejoined Jagger in Los Angeles, where the Rolling Stones were mixing Beggars' Banquet (Abkco, 1968). Jagger had hired a charismatic ex-con named Phil Kaufman to be his "executive nanny." Kaufman, who would become a close friend of Parsons before long, remembers him giving "country music lessons" to the curious Stones during their '68 visit:
"...Gram was teaching the Rolling Stones country music.... Quite often we'd just sit around the house -- Gram, Mick, Keith and I. They had been to Ace Records and bought every country album they could find: George Jones, Merle Haggard, Dave Dudley, Ernest Tubb -- you name it. Gram would say, 'Here is an example of this,' and he'd tell me which record he wanted and I'd play the record. They'd listen to it, tap their toes to it, listen to the chords and then Gram had me play George Jones, etc... That was what Gram was doing. I recorded Gram and Keith singing together, but sadly those tapes are long gone."
Kaufman disputes assertions that Parsons was a "Rolling Stones groupie": "Nothing could be further from the truth. Gram was one of the only guys in the world who hung out with famous people like the Stones and who carried his own weight, i.e., he paid his own way. If anything, Keith was the 'groupie' of Gram.... They wanted to learn country music, and Gram had it."
Before long, Richards and Jagger returned home, and Parsons went back to organizing the long-haired country band he had been planning.
Jean-Pierre Rassam
Encore des cheminements qu'on aimerait explorer, là c'est ce personnage assez fascinant, Rassam. Un site met en ligne un article d'Antoine de Baeque (Libé). Jean Yanne et Keith ensemble, j'aurais aimé voir ça... :
http://paris70.free.fr/rassam.htm
Il y aurait aussi le "filon" Scorcese, qui a beaucoup fréquenté tout ce monde là dans les années 70 notamment.
http://paris70.free.fr/rassam.htm
Il y aurait aussi le "filon" Scorcese, qui a beaucoup fréquenté tout ce monde là dans les années 70 notamment.
samedi, novembre 20, 2004
Connaissance des Arts 2004
Mick photographié par David Bayley en 1964.
A l'intérieur du magazine, une annonce d'expo à venir, avec ces deux très belles photos (euh... l'amour rend sûrement aveugle, deux ans plus tard, je les trouve parfaitement ridicules ces photos...)
Keith Richards 92 R&F (extraits)
Elle est bien l’interview de Keith par Manœuvre (R&F novembre 92).
Contexte : Il est avec son groupe bis et enregistre depuis mars (Main offender), il n’a pas vu passer l’été. Manœuvre se pointe, avec Gassian, premier d’une série de 35 journalistes pour l’interviewer. On dirait pas parce qu’ils prennent leur temps.
Des extraits de cette itw sont dans le bouquin de Manœuvre, mais c’est mieux en entier et non (ou moins) trafiqué. Ceci dit, ici, je n’en mets que des bribes !
- A l’époque, Bill est sur le départ, c’est pas certain apparemment (me souviens plus de la chronologie) :
Et si Bill Wyman ne veut plus revenir alors ?
Mmmhhh… Bonne question. Ca me trotte dans le ciboulot en permanence (long silence)… Si Bill Wyman ne veut pas revenir, il faudra un autre bassiste ! Les Stones ne vont tout de même pas s’arrêter parce que Bill Wyman ne veut plus jouer avec eux. Tu crois pas ? Ma théorie c’est qu’il va changer d’avis. Mon attitude c’est : quand le temps viendra d’enregistrer avec les Stones, Bill sera là ou il ne sera pas là. Et là, il faut que j’enquête. Tu sais, il nous envoie des messages par presse interposée « Fini terminé pour moi nanana… ! ». Et puis d’un autre côté, tu rencontres certains de ses proches et eux te disent tout autre chose… Moi, je ne l’ai pas vu depuis un an, Bill ! Aucune idée de ses sentiments actuels.
Des extraits de cette itw sont dans le bouquin de Manœuvre, mais c’est mieux en entier et non (ou moins) trafiqué. Ceci dit, ici, je n’en mets que des bribes !
- A l’époque, Bill est sur le départ, c’est pas certain apparemment (me souviens plus de la chronologie) :
Et si Bill Wyman ne veut plus revenir alors ?
Mmmhhh… Bonne question. Ca me trotte dans le ciboulot en permanence (long silence)… Si Bill Wyman ne veut pas revenir, il faudra un autre bassiste ! Les Stones ne vont tout de même pas s’arrêter parce que Bill Wyman ne veut plus jouer avec eux. Tu crois pas ? Ma théorie c’est qu’il va changer d’avis. Mon attitude c’est : quand le temps viendra d’enregistrer avec les Stones, Bill sera là ou il ne sera pas là. Et là, il faut que j’enquête. Tu sais, il nous envoie des messages par presse interposée « Fini terminé pour moi nanana… ! ». Et puis d’un autre côté, tu rencontres certains de ses proches et eux te disent tout autre chose… Moi, je ne l’ai pas vu depuis un an, Bill ! Aucune idée de ses sentiments actuels.
J'en parlais avec des vieux fans français des Stones, et l'un d'eux m'a dit : "Qu'ils mettent Ron Wood à la basse et reprennent Mick Taylor à la guitare"
Ah ah ah ! Tu leur diras de ma part que c'est ce que j'ai entendu de mieux sur le sujet !
Plus loin dans l’interview :
Tiens essaye un peu de nous aligner tous les cinq pour faire une photo des Stones en 92… Non, l’important, c’est qu’on a retrouvé beaucoup de désir et pas mal d’énergie. On sait qu’on a besoin les uns des autres parce qu’on a réalisé à quel point on aimait jouer ensemble. Et même Bill va finir par s’en rendre compte. En tous cas, je l’espère, parce que c’est le dernier truc que je voudrais, perdre Bill.
- Sur Brian : pourquoi est-il si incroyablement salaud quand il en parle, ça heurte des tas de gens.
Il répond encore une fois que Brian s’est désintégré, on pouvait rien pour lui, il se foutait de la gueule de ceux qui voulaient l’aider, il avait fini par choper la grosse tête, à se prendre pour dieu, etc etc. MAIS comme Manœuvre nous décrit aussi la bande son et l'image, on apprend que le K. est « bouleversé » « secoué » et pas du tout glacial/froid/j’en ai rien à foutre de ce mec quand il a fini d’en parler. Ca change tout, et on espère que c’est vrai. Le Sunkist orange ça peut aussi tirer des larmes.
- Une question que je lui ai posée sur son site (no answer !) mais voici la réponse :
L’Angleterre, ça te manque ? Je veux dire, tu es obligé de vivre à New York non ?
Je vais te dire… Je rentre là bas et le grand choc, c’est quand je retrouve les odeurs de l’Angleterre… Snif snif oooooohhhhh… Mais qu’est ce que je peux y faire ? Et puis au fur et à mesure que je me balade dans Londres, de toutes façons je ne reconnais plus rien ! Jésus, c’est ma ville natale et je m’y sens comme le dernier des touristes ! C’est mon destin, ça. Peux pas rentrer chez moi, j’ai plus de maison. L’Angleterre que j’ai connue, elle est où ? Elle a changé, sans moi ! Mais je m’en fous, c’est ok.
- Parlant de ses Winos :
C’est « ma clique » (en français). On va tuer le monde, mon cher ! Où est mon flingue ? On approche la musique comme vous, les Français, vous avez approché la Bastille.
Manœuvre : Ca, au pays, ils vont comprendre !
Keith : C’est le premier truc rock’n roll que vous ayez fait, les mecs !
- In fine :
Et puis, il y a ta biographie qui vient de sortir…
Oh le bouquin de Victor… euh Victor…
Bokris !
Oui tout le monde m’en parle, je n’y ai absolument pas participé ah non ! Donc j’ai jeté un œil là-dedans, j’ai pas pu le croire ! Il a ressorti toutes ces histoires. Le changement de sang ! Je veux dire : encore (crise de rire) ! Il a fait ça dans son coin, tout seul. C’est pas mon livre, c’est son livre. Et la plus grande partie du bouquin, ce sont des archives, de vieilles interviews recollées, si j’ai bien compris, il a interviewé deux ou trois personnes en plus… J’en sais rien ! C’est pas intéressant. Et puis moi, je sais tout sur moi, c’est peut-être pour ça que je trouve le bouquin chiant, hey ?
(L’itw est longue, je vais pas tout résumer).
Plus loin dans l’interview :
Tiens essaye un peu de nous aligner tous les cinq pour faire une photo des Stones en 92… Non, l’important, c’est qu’on a retrouvé beaucoup de désir et pas mal d’énergie. On sait qu’on a besoin les uns des autres parce qu’on a réalisé à quel point on aimait jouer ensemble. Et même Bill va finir par s’en rendre compte. En tous cas, je l’espère, parce que c’est le dernier truc que je voudrais, perdre Bill.
- Sur Brian : pourquoi est-il si incroyablement salaud quand il en parle, ça heurte des tas de gens.
Il répond encore une fois que Brian s’est désintégré, on pouvait rien pour lui, il se foutait de la gueule de ceux qui voulaient l’aider, il avait fini par choper la grosse tête, à se prendre pour dieu, etc etc. MAIS comme Manœuvre nous décrit aussi la bande son et l'image, on apprend que le K. est « bouleversé » « secoué » et pas du tout glacial/froid/j’en ai rien à foutre de ce mec quand il a fini d’en parler. Ca change tout, et on espère que c’est vrai. Le Sunkist orange ça peut aussi tirer des larmes.
- Une question que je lui ai posée sur son site (no answer !) mais voici la réponse :
L’Angleterre, ça te manque ? Je veux dire, tu es obligé de vivre à New York non ?
Je vais te dire… Je rentre là bas et le grand choc, c’est quand je retrouve les odeurs de l’Angleterre… Snif snif oooooohhhhh… Mais qu’est ce que je peux y faire ? Et puis au fur et à mesure que je me balade dans Londres, de toutes façons je ne reconnais plus rien ! Jésus, c’est ma ville natale et je m’y sens comme le dernier des touristes ! C’est mon destin, ça. Peux pas rentrer chez moi, j’ai plus de maison. L’Angleterre que j’ai connue, elle est où ? Elle a changé, sans moi ! Mais je m’en fous, c’est ok.
- Parlant de ses Winos :
C’est « ma clique » (en français). On va tuer le monde, mon cher ! Où est mon flingue ? On approche la musique comme vous, les Français, vous avez approché la Bastille.
Manœuvre : Ca, au pays, ils vont comprendre !
Keith : C’est le premier truc rock’n roll que vous ayez fait, les mecs !
- In fine :
Et puis, il y a ta biographie qui vient de sortir…
Oh le bouquin de Victor… euh Victor…
Bokris !
Oui tout le monde m’en parle, je n’y ai absolument pas participé ah non ! Donc j’ai jeté un œil là-dedans, j’ai pas pu le croire ! Il a ressorti toutes ces histoires. Le changement de sang ! Je veux dire : encore (crise de rire) ! Il a fait ça dans son coin, tout seul. C’est pas mon livre, c’est son livre. Et la plus grande partie du bouquin, ce sont des archives, de vieilles interviews recollées, si j’ai bien compris, il a interviewé deux ou trois personnes en plus… J’en sais rien ! C’est pas intéressant. Et puis moi, je sais tout sur moi, c’est peut-être pour ça que je trouve le bouquin chiant, hey ?
(L’itw est longue, je vais pas tout résumer).
jeudi, novembre 18, 2004
Rock & Folk 92 & 94
Déniché chez Gilda 2 ITW : une du K en 92, apparemment fleuve, et une du K et du M, 1994. Pas lues, enfin si juste ça : Mick y aura t-il encore une tournée en 2001 ? NON.
samedi, novembre 06, 2004
Cocksucker Blues, le film
Un article de Bruno LESPRIT sur le film.
Les articles restent environ une douzaine de jours accessibles avant de passer en archives payantes...
Par ici sans passer par la caisse pour le moment :
(pour les abonnés au Monde en ligne, accès via les archives)
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