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The Stones were coming to town... On a trip to Corduroy Records around the same time we came across a bootleg Stones live album ,recorded in Perth in 1973.On playing the disc ,the memories came flooding back...... In 1973 two major events in my life occurred. The first was that I began to learn to play the drums ,thanks to a certain musical nun and the second was going to my first ever rock show ,which happened to be The Rolling Stones at Memorial Drive in Adelaide on the 20th Feb. I had recently bought Sticky Fingers and Get yer Ya Yas out and had Exile on Main St on lay-by along with Let it Bleed ,which was a recommendation from my brother ,so I was already well on my way to being a huge fan. With regard to my future career , there was never any question in my mind that I would be anything other than a musician ,even at this early age. When asked "what I wanted to be..." in my 1st year class one day, I announced that I wished to be the bass player of the Rolling Stones. I had come to this decision by ruling out the possibility of any other member being worthy of getting the boot. Mick ,Keith and especially Charlie were gods , Bill ,Im afraid was not. |
The front of the 1973 tour programme.
Clare Moore (drums), before experiencing the Stones. |
I soon realised that I didnt want
to play NEAR Charlie ,I wanted to play LIKE him. I thought that his playing
was always perfect. He possesses the ability accompany the band with subtelty
while still being interesting.He is relaxed ,composed and classy and obviously
considers drumming an art and not a sport. At the time ,I was continually
being encouraged by my drum teachers to be more showy as a drummer (even
to wear shorter skirts!!), to "out play the other guy" ,"to
play like the guy in Status Quo" .These suggestions introduced to me
the competitiveness that occurs in drumming and also, unfortunatley,the
dim-wittedness of many drummers, not to mention it being a little undignified.
Charlie came along to prove to me that you could retain your cool whilst
still being a drummer,I had to see him play. I hassled my folks to let me go,but they were hesitant to allow this as I was only 12. Fortunately my two older sisters were sufficiently into the band to take me to the show (after much pestering) ,even though it must have cramped their style ,I suspect. We saved up ,queued up and snapped up 3 tickets at $5 bucks each .I then bought myself an AMCO pink jumbo-cord jacket and jeans and I was well prepared to rock. The crowd were rowdy and excited when we lined up to get in and it seemed to take an eternity to make it to the gate. Boys were already climbing the trees outside the venue as there was no back or sides to the stage ,so the view was good and the show was sold out anyway. For me being there , scared, but full of anticipation, it was as if I was floating through the scene,half there ,but being jarred back to reality by elbows and feet and trying not to be trampled by the surging mob. Finally we got through and got to walk past the stage to get to our aisle. The PA seemed huge (although it was maybe a 10th the size of current PA system for stadiums) and as I passed the speakers blasting out some heavy rock of the moment ,I could feel my skeleton shaking inside my body and my brain hitting the sides of my skull (Ive got a big skull!) I could see the lights glowing on Keiths amp and Charlies kit waiting to be hit. Their guitars all standing to attention and the roadies running about ,hunched over like busy Quasimodos. I remember this scene clearly also that I wanted to get up on stage. |
More of the programme.
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Halfway back standing on our seats we watched the
Stones in what I consider their classic period .They looked and sounded
exactly as I thought they would , like the houseband for the early seventies,
their music resonated with the people and the times more truly than others.
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The tour crew.
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