Stone me.. Keith Richards is the Queen Mum of rock By Tony Parsons 30/10/2010


The first time I saw Keith Richards, a policeman was taking him into the dock of Aylesbury crown court, where he was facing charges of possessing drugs.

At that time, January 1977, Keith Richards was the baddest boy in the western world. Even as young whippersnappers like the Sex Pistols grabbed front-page headlines, they could not compete with Keith.

For more than 10 years he had been a poisonous thorn in the side of the establishment, for ever one step ahead of the law, bouncing from scandal to bust to drugs trial. Richards was a real outlaw, a rebel from the old school, and for years it seemed likely that one day they would lock him up for a long time.

But the last time I saw Keith was on the Andrew Marr show, where he was interviewed by an obvious long-term fan, and answered questions about heroin addiction with the calm wisdom of Vince Cable talking about quantitative easing.

Keith Richards is no longer a poison dart in the side of the establishment.

In the 33 years since I saw him facing jail (he was fined £750 with £250 costs, and got busted again one month later in Toronto), Keith has won them all over.

The establishment love Keith Richards. In fact, he is probably the most beloved character in British life since the Queen Mother.

What happened? Partly the change is generational.

The baby boomers who grew up with the Stones have been in positions of power for knocking on for two decades.

They have TV shows. They run countries.

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In Keith's book, we learn how Tony Blair sent him a get-well note when Richards nearly killed himself when he fell out of a palm tree in 2006 and landed on his head.

Keith says: "The opening line of my letter from Tony Blair was, 'Dear Keith, you've always been one of my heroes...' England's in the hands of someone who I'm a hero of? It's frightening."

Keith's surprise is understandable. Because he never really repented for all those years of bad behaviour. He ended up ditching the heroin only because old people don't usually make successful smack addicts and because sooner or later the heroin would have got him imprisoned.

But Keith never wept on Oprah Winfrey or Michael Parkinson's lap. He never went to the Priory. His rehab was DIY - done with alcohol, cold turkey and gritted teeth. Keith never said sorry about being a bad man. So he is completely different to all those whining modern stars, who want brownie points for cleaning up their act.

I knew many young men who killed themselves trying to be Keith Richards.

One of them, a cult musician called Johnny Thunders, was someone I loved like a brother. But nobody ever succeeded in being like Keith Richards.

Even Keith, in the end, had to retire his gun-toting, heroinshooting, outlaw persona. Keith had a good run for his money, but by his middle 30s the act was heading for a prison cell or a grave.

But why do we love Keith? How did he become the Queen Mum of rock? Beyond the greatest guitar riffs in human history, I think we love Keith because he is honest, he is real, and he is a survivor. Keith was truly regal - he never complained or explained. And - although I knew boys who are not around because they worshipped him - he never hurt anyone but himself.

We love him because he is from a different time. An age when Johnny Rotten and Iggy Pop were not doing commercials. A lost era when bands were truly figures of dissent, debauchery and rebellion.

And in this everchanging world - where economies collapse, and wars rage, and Take That turn into fat old geezers - the Rolling Stones are comforting, u n c h a n g i n g , eternal figures. Some say that Keith's book will be the death knell for his band.

But the death knell of the Stones will not come until the death of Keith. Or Mick.



Read more: [www.mirror.co.uk]