This is a copy and paste of the review I wrote at the time, which was of the moment:
My first-ever Stones concert. After more than 3 decades of being a fan, I finally took the plunge and bought a ticket, tempted as I was at the prospect of hearing the band as they really sound, that is, without the excess backup players, in an arena, and with Mick Taylor on a couple of songs. I will explain in my review why this will not be the last time the Stones roll through town, as some posters have been projecting their fears of old age onto the future of the band.
First, my only criticism is not for the show, but for the merchandise vendors in the hallway outside the arena, who ran out of the best T-shirts well before the show started. There was quite a crowd around the T-shirt stall and I stood there a good 20 minutes sweating it out as I slowly inched my way toward the counter, eyeing a black tee with a mid-60s band portrait--but which someone well ahead of me got the last of, and this was a full half-hour before show time. So I got a mustard yellow shirt with a Steel Wheels era photo, but where Charlie was blocked out by Mick. Nice to see that Bill Wyman's image still appears on Stones concert merchandise--I'm sure he must get a cut?
The show itself sounded fantastic, and it wasn't really until the second song, IORR, that you could tell how loud Keith's guitar was in the mix. He played that one really well. In fact, Keith played great--and super loud--the whole night. He was all snarl, swagger, and smiles, clearly enjoying himself and really holding the band together. Mick looked over at Keith as the opening chords came in.
Charlie was also great--which became clearly apparent on the third song, Paint It, Black, when you were struck by the "thwack" and pop coming off the snare drum, making the song every bit as dynamic and exciting as it was when it was first recorded.
The only place where Keith might not have shone was Gimme Shelter. Though he didn't play any bum notes, it just seems that the intro and the solo are played a bit ragged, compared to the original version, but played nonetheless with a ragged glory. The extended instrumental playout toward the end of the song was engagingly hypnotic. You can still lose yourself in a Stones live jam. Big cheers from the crowd when Lisa took her soaring solos in the middle.
Then came the delightful surprises. All Down The Line was a full-tilt powerhouse, and Ron Wood's lead flourishes were superb. Mick interacted with Keith during this number toward the end for the only time in the show aside from their scripted mutual nod during Keith's initial sojourn around the ramp during Sympathy For The Devil. As the song was playing out to the end, Mick strolled over to Keith, crouched down, and pumped his arm toward Keith's guitar as a show of support to propel him onward.
Memory Motel was certainly a treat. I was expecting the fan vote to select this one, and during the day before the show I was fearful that there might be a not so special guest, thinking that there was no way that Keith would sing his part. For my concert attire, I wore black jeans and blue socks--I was Black and Blue for Memory Motel. A huge, rousing cheer erupted when Keith stepped up to the mic for his first vocal part, which was delivered with clarity and soul, and an even huger cheer at the end of that first part. They love Keef here.
As When The Whip Comes down was announced, you were in heaven, thinking how much better could it get. I was sort of hoping for CYHMK with Taylor, but by this point I knew it wasn't going to happen, as the rarities mini-set was wrapping up. Whip is better for the Boston audience, whereas the laid-back jazzy Mike Bloomfield/Carlos Santana-type vibe of CYHMK was more suited to the sunny California audience. Boston never produced a Carlos Santana. They prefer their rock n roll stripped down and to the point. When you think of Boston bands from the 60s, you think The Remains, and when you think of Boston bands from the 70s, you think Aerosmith--you get the idea.
Emotional Rescue is great live because the concert version brings out something the studio version does not accentuate--a thumping boom from the bass drum that is great for leaning on one foot and doing a one-hip shake throughout.
Having followed each show of the tour on this board, I knew what the rest of the set list would be--but that didn't curtail my enjoyment one bit. The announcement of Doom and Gloom brought no reaction from the crowd, but a warm hand was given after, likewise for OMS.
Midnight Rambler was quite compelling and it was great to have Mick Taylor on board, adding a bit of extra flesh on the bone. The best part was when the song slowed down in the middle for that series of crunch chords: "Weh-hell, you heard about the Boston"....bam! Suddenly the Ya-Yas record had sprung to life.
Then came the greatest hits--I prefer this term to "warhorses".
It has been asked by some posters whether The Stones ever get tired of playing their greatest hits at every show--I can tell you from watching them as they play, for instance, Brown Sugar, that the answer is unequivocally no. You see Ronnie and Keith interacting, Ronnie squinting and grimacing as he makes the effort to play the best possible solo--ditto that in Tumbling Dice--you see Keith grinning with joy as he strums away, you see Charlie remaining dedicated and focused throughout, and you see Mick delighting in working the crowd in his best music hall tradition. Sympathy was played well and Keith's opening crash chords were triumphantly loud--Jumping Jack Flash was a joyful highlight for the same reason.
Now, in closing, I would like to speak to all this talk of "the last time"--not the song, but the career of The Stones. People forget the words that follow: "this could be the last time, maybe the last time, I don't know....
That's right, you don't know, and neither do The Stones. Furthermore, like The Stones, you shouldn't worry about it, for if you let it trouble you, you will only cheat yourself out of a good time. And that's what a Stones concert is: a party, a good time. Why should a party be depressing? When you go to a party, you tell jokes, you laugh, and you carry on. You don't go to a party to sulk and read obituaries out loud, and leave depressed.
And that's why The Stones will never intentionally do a farewell tour--it would sully a good time, making the fun bittersweet. And the vibe they convey from the stage is one of pure joy and fun just living in the moment, and as long as this celebratory atmosphere continues, there will be more Rolling Stones shows. At the level they are playing at now, they give the impression that they could carry on for several years to come.
Viva La Rolling Stones. My first show shall not be my last. See you next time in Boston.
Thank you.
From: [
www.iorr.org]