Charlie Watts Has Cancer

Appearing on the cover of Rolling Stone in a shirt open to the waist. During the last five or so years.

Last time I saw the Stones was the opening night of the Voodoo Lounge tour. Quite amazing to be in the open air and hear the absolutely massive roar that attended Mick's introduction of Charlie -- an even bigger cheer than Keith got.

I think Charlie will be just fine.

Happy 70th birthday Charlie!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3FUA0Hj7fI

I had no clue his birthday was here and I had been listening to Exile earlier tonite, just focusing on CW's drumming and that seemingly effortless gorgeous swing. Happy Birthday and much Love.

I dug out my "satanic maj" Lp to play last night, but then again that's not unusual.

Rolling Stones drummer Charlie Watts dies at the age of 80, his publicist says https://t.co/7Siet8SskY

— BBC Breaking News (@BBCBreaking) August 24, 2021

aw, shit. I know ppl have issues with him, but absolutely love his sound and drumming.

Oh no!

damn. RIP Charlie Watts.

Oh man, this absolutely sucks.

RIP. He had a pretty good run post-cancer apparently.

Thank you thank you thank you Charlie and The Stones. You guys were godhead level.

no drummer like charlie, the steadiest backbeat in rock. rip

I know ppl have issues with him
what are the issues? I think he's just as essential to the overall Stones thing as Keith ... You don't want to have like Keith Moon in the Stones imo.

Anyway — RIP, one of the best rock drummers for sure.

well, shit

oh no! so sad.

The problems, if I remember other threads, concern his inability to play certain parts. Jimmy Miller, a fine drummer himself, helped Charlie Watts on "Tumbling Dice," I think, but so what? It's like when George Martin 'composed' guitar parts for George Harrison to play: you still need interpretation.

Turrican had issues with Charlie not being Phil Collins or somebody.

RIP THE ROCK DRUMMER

This performance clip of "Jumpin' Jack Flash" focuses solely on Charlie Watts' drumming, as he does his thing on a modest kit. RIP.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CL614PU-EQE

ah yeah, miller plays drums on the end of "tumbling dice" ... still, that coda is always one of my favorite things from live shows, with Watts and Jagger really getting into it.

Yeah, "problems" was a reference to those discussions. My view is all bands should have problems like that.

xp jumpin jack flash

it's cool to get a good long look at him playing, even as an older fella. i love how he kept his controlled sloppiness and irregularities to the end, the sudden run of 8th-notes on his bass drum which align with mick getting excited on vocals but then vanish, never to return, and his left-foot on the hi-hat, sometimes stomping with every beat, sometimes the 2 and 4, but most often just left there un-used as well. and yet the sound that comes out is consistent and drives the whole thing. and of course, not playing the hi-hat at the same time as the snare, which gives everything a motorik shade

i've been listening to a load of the stones recently, more than usual, mostly aftermath and out of our heads. there's an electric evil energy that runs through that era in particular (for me, at least), and charlie's playing is like the steady guide through it all

rip. it's ridiciulous to have "issues" with any member of the stones' rhythm section like christ.

just found out about this, RIP. glad i was able to see the full band in San Jose in the late 90s.

I was glad to see them on the last tour. Yeah they're old, but I would've deeply regretted never seeing Charlie and the Stones had I missed it. The highlight was the instrumental break on "Midnight Rambler," the one time playing in a cavernous stadium actually helped the sound - hearing Mick's harmonica and Charlie's train-from-hell drumming pick up speed while echoing and swirling around the place was demonic.

Classic Charlie

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oau-J4rfhco

I always remember him saying in an interview that he hated touring and always wanted to back out, but every time he tried to they delivered ever larger truckloads of money that he couldn't refuse. Now that he finally takes break, he dies. It sucks!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrAQQZi1Jf4

So I guess it went Levon->Keltner->Charlie.

And Charlie->Steve Jordan, according the video. I think Charlie started doing it around 1974 or so. I want to say it becomes really apparent and prominent c. "Some Girls," and then he sticks with it, especially as the Stones sound codifies (calcifies?).

Btw, one of the biggest followers of Charlie's hi-hat move is maybe Kenny Aronoff.

rest in peace charlie, you were one of the best

cool motherfucker

I saw the 40 Licks tour at Wembley Arena in August 2003 - the only time I saw the Stones live - and it was indeed fantastic. Highlights: Love In Vain (the only slow song that night), an “intense, intoxicating, extended jam in the middle of Midnight Rambler” (as I described it at the time), “rollicking, swaggering renditions” of Tumbling Dice and Happy, and of the deeper cuts, I was thrilled that they played Hand Of Fate. Best of all was when they moved to a smaller spur stage in the centre of the arena, only a few rows ahead of us and so close that (as my mate put it) you could see how much make-up they were wearing, and played Respectable, It’s Only Rock & Roll and Brown Sugar. Lowlights were “an interminable blues jam (into which time they could comfortably have fitted all three of the biggest omissions: Gimme Shelter, Sympathy For The Devil and You Can’t Always Get What You Want)” and a cover of the O’Jays’ Love Train which was “as baffling as it was pointless”.

After the show, I went to a gay club called The Cock in Vauxhall, and watched the first ever UK show by the then barely known Scissor Sisters, who had yet to release any material. Those were the days.

I think that "Love Train" cover was their post-9/11 peace plea move.

I saw Patti Smith back in 2010, and she played "Love Train," too.

I loved his playing because he showed me what it looks like to have amazing feel/groove and not be a flashy wildman and to do that while sounding fucking GREAT. He was so cool and dignified.

I saw the Stones at the end of the 90s, I can't remember exactly when but I am glad i saw them. I went with my dad and I knew more songs than he did :)

saw them in 2013 at the prudential center in newark. the show was awesome, the pictures i took were beyooond terrible.

I saw them on the Steel Wheels tour in 1989 in DC.
I am glad that I got to see them once even though I was not the biggest Stones fan.

This is based on my limited perceptions, but I always looked at Watts as a guy who remained above the fray. He was fine letting Mick and Keith do their thing while he toiled in relative anonymity on a spartan kit, content to be solid. Very blue collar even when his band was not. He also seemed very reverent about jazz players and did what he could to play it and use his position as the drummer of the world's biggest rock band to help raise the profiles of jazz guys. He let others be flashy, in fact he facilitated such things. He was the one member of the Stones I would have liked to have asked a bunch of silly musical questions to; he seemed like he would have earnestly answered them.

I loved his playing because he showed me what it looks like to have amazing feel/groove and not be a flashy wildman and to do that while sounding fucking GREAT. He was so cool and dignified.

― weird woman in a bar (La Lechera

otm

It’s not widely known, but one night in late 1974 during the first “Kashmir” recording sessions, Charlie and Lef Zepplein bassist John Paul Jones got hammered on mescal and bad coke at a local joint and decided to sneak into the studio after hours. Charlie thought it would be funny to playback John Bonham’s track and dilly-dally about with the knobs and such. An odd otherworldly effect was hit upon as Jones did a face plant on the console. Charlie was compelled to drag his friend to his car and dutifully drive him home.

RIP. Putting on Out of Our Heads.

The "drum cam" videos posted today have kinda stunned me because even though I've been listening to the Rolling Stones for more than 30 years (my mom was a fan; I remember one day one of the NY classic rock radio stations had an all-day Stones-a-thon, no idea why, and we taped a bunch of their music off the radio together), I've never really watched much video of them, so it never registered with me that he was driving the band from behind a tiny little jazz drummer's kit. I always just assumed he had a big arena-rock drum kit like everybody else, even minimalist drummers like Phil Rudd from AC/DC had the big kit, but not Charlie Watts. He had everything he needed in like four pieces and a couple of cymbals.

There is that, and, also, the rest of the band, including Jagger, could hear and respond to him from behind that little jazz drummer's kit.

sad to hear. charlie was a cool guy and a terrific drummer. not much more to add but i put sticky fingers on while driving home from work and there's just nothing like that band in its prime.

1987 Geoff Himes review of Charlie Watts jazz big band tour gig in DC

https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/1987/06/22/charlie-watts-orchestra-big-band-big-beat/4dbc85ec-8460-4634-b209-85b5e861e8bf/?tid=ss_fb&fbclid=IwAR3YW-OMAvIySUrydGvP6d--UZ5ayVdxWbCzPlzyGDkl0lI_Mr29wTk-V6E

His lede:
Charlie Watts is the best rock 'n' roll drummer to ever come out of England because he swings as hard as he rocks. That's because he first learned to play from jazz records,

My friend just spun this on Twitch...the now pretty hard to find original "Jumping Jack Flash" promo by Micky Stardust & The Spiders From Dartford.

https://m.facebook.com/watch/?v=360648634349063&_rdr

Cool pic posted by Theodora Richards of her dad giving Charlie a haircut:

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/E9mTqe-XsAEpZmp?format=jpg&name=large

with a steak knife

The saying "you're only as good as your drummer" never meant more. Thanks for everything, Charlie 💔 pic.twitter.com/M6LELpD7oa

— Janet Weiss (@jazzzhand) August 24, 2021

Really brings into focus what we mean by “good” too

Retweeted by Janet

Charlie Watts, just the greatest. 60 years in the Rolling Stones, and never impressed for a minute of it. the only person on earth the Stones took orders from. my tribute, written in shock, to the drummer who made them great by making them keep up.https://t.co/cAhrA00nv4

— rob sheffield (@robsheff) August 24, 2021

Found a shitload of videos on my phone from that Stones concert I saw in 2019. Charlie may have looked frail (or rather skinny and bored) when he came out to take his bow, but Jesus shit he actually played like a machine that night.

interesting to me that he doesn't appear to be doing that signature hi-hat/ride thing in the jazz clip posted above

pic.twitter.com/YUR6lckf8k

— Keith Richards (@officialKeef) August 24, 2021

aww

keith forwarding the dad memes

Pete Townshend:

“I only played with Charlie once, when he drummed for Ronnie Lane and me on our Rough Mix album. We did two faultless live takes (no overdubs at all) of my song ‘My Baby Gives It Away’. His technique was obvious immediately, the hi-hat always slightly late, and the snare drumstick held in the flat of the left hand, underpowered to some extent, lazy-loose, super-cool. The swing on the track is explosive. I’ve never enjoyed playing with a drummer quite so much. Of course that brings up Keith Moon, who was so different to Charlie. At Keith’s funeral Charlie surprised me by openly weeping, and I remember wishing I could wear my heart on my sleeve like that. I was tightened up like a snare drum myself.

Charlie lived a quiet life in the English countryside. He had a London bolthole in St James’s for many years which I think he used mainly to visit his tailor and buy paintings. He is the exemplar of the perfect marriage, still married to his art-school girlfriend who he married secretly in 1964. I understand he lived a quiet and respectable life on the road as well. I know that like me he wasn’t mad on touring, but that wry smile of his – that hid a mischievous side to him that few us saw – could turn into the most beautiful wide-mouthed laugh at very little urging. I could make him smile simply by talking about growing up following my father Cliff’s post-war dance band. Charlie loved the ‘real’ music of that era.

I’ve said here that his playing on ‘My Baby Gives It Away’ was flawless. I have suddenly remembered that he had trouble with the clipped ending. On the second take he nailed it, but was so shocked he had managed it that he burst into laughter and fell off his stool. That was a Keith Moon stunt, ask any drummer what they most dread doing and they will probably reply that they never want to fall off their stool.”

At Keith’s funeral Charlie surprised me by openly weeping,

aw

Revisited Blue & Lonesome this afternoon. As their loosest studio album since 1964 (recorded in three days), it's a great way to assess his mature playing style.

_At Keith’s funeral Charlie surprised me by openly weeping,_

aw

same

I misread "bolthole," but that's on me

Thought it was some alternative history parallel world multiverse stuff or something.

via Ned, Mikal Gilmore posted this on FB, really worth a read

https://www.facebook.com/1434275095/posts/10227098732000899

(i can’t seem to c&p the text bc its too long, if anyone else has better skills fee free)

I'll do the honors. Important to note that this was posted in the wake of the news of him not doing the tour, but before he had passed.

--

Many of us were troubled to learn that Charlie Watts will not be playing with the Rolling Stones on the band’s upcoming fall U.S. tour, due to a health matter. Part of our concern is, of course, the 80-year-old drummer’s well-being. In 2004 he was diagnosed with throat cancer. He underwent radiotherapy and the cancer went into remission. Nothing has been reported specifically about Watts’ current condition, but a spokesperson has said in a press release: “Charlie has had a procedure which was completely successful but I gather his doctors this week concluded that he now needs proper rest and recuperation. With rehearsals starting in a couple of weeks it’s very disappointing to say the least, but it’s also fair to say no one saw this coming.” Watts will be replaced by Steve Jordan for the tour. Jordan drummed in bands for Saturday Night Live and Late Night with David Letterman in the 1970s and 1980s, and was also a member of Keith Richards’ band X-Pensive Winos. In addition, he’s played in the John Mayer Trio.
Of course, there’s another element in our disappointment: Watts is absolutely central to the Rolling Stones’ history, sound and identity. Are the Rolling Stones still the Rolling Stones without Charlie Watts?
In 2013, I interviewed the band’s members as they prepared for their 50th anniversary tour, in the U.S., for Rolling Stone. I’d talked to Mick Jagger, Keith Richards and Ron Wood before, but never Watts. I was excited by the prospect: For more years than I could count, I had wanted to be able to sit in a room and talk with Charlie Watts about jazz. I got to do that, but the section I wrote about him for the Rolling Stone feature had to be cut for space reasons, which I of course regretted. Learning about his absence from this tour, I went back and reread the section, expanded it with some more passages from the interview transcript and decided to offer it here. It now flows conversationally, even if that makes for a little verbosity as a result. Though brief parts of this appeared in the final 2013 article, it has never been published before. I’d feel remiss if I didn’t place it somewhere at this time. In what appears below, the question of whether the Rolling Stones can still be the Rolling Stones without Charlie Watts, gets addressed, and answered by Keith Richards and Mick Jagger. Of course, you have to wonder now what that answer truly means.
(Please note: This post is equivalent length to a feature article.)
Charlie Watts, in conversation, 2013:
Charlie Watts is a jazz drummer. When he joined the Rolling Stones in 1963, in his early twenties, he had some doubts about casting his lot with an outfit that—though a self-described blues ensemble—would quickly be identified as a teen-adored rock band, like the Beatles. He had drummed with band leader Alexis Korner in London’s blues scene—which the Stones emerged from—but if anything had seen himself playing jazz. Later, in 1965, he would publish an illustrated children’s book about bebop alto-saxophonist Charlie Parker, Ode to a High Flying Bird. (Much later, in 1992, he would record an album devoted to the late alto saxophonist, A Tribute to Charlie Parker with Strings.) Keith Richards has said he considers the Stones a jazz band—at least onstage—because of Watts.
It was Richards, Watts would tell me in a 2013 interview, who taught him new ways to hear rock & roll. “While they were all going on about John Lee Hooker and all these other marvelous people, Muddy Waters, I’d be putting Charlie Parker and Sonny Rollins in. That’s what I was when I joined the Rolling Stones, that’s what I used to listen to. Keith taught me to listen to Elvis Presley, because Elvis was someone I never bloody liked or listened to. Obviously, I’d heard ‘Hound Dog’ and all that, but to listen to him properly, Keith was the one who taught me.” Watts also began listening to New Orleans musicians who played rock & roll and R&B as well as jazz. “Like Earl Phillips, Jimmy Reed’s drummer. Earl Phillips kind of played like a jazz drummer. Another New Orleans drummer, Earl Palmer [who played with Dave Bartholomew, Fats Domino, Professor Longhair and Little Richard, among others], always thought of himself as a jazz player—and in fact he was; he played for King Pleasure.” Watts came to see how jazz and rock & roll emerged from similar backgrounds, sometimes played by the same players. “It’s quite a normal mixture in New Orleans for the drummers—somebody like Zigaboo [Joseph Modeliste, drummer for the Meters]. He could play bebop but also could play second line rhythms. [In New Orleans brass band parades, a bass drum establishes a central beat while a snare drummer follows behind, playing off the marching beat with improvised polyrhythms that can vary that march beat, often transforming the music into something improvisational.] Ed Blackwell was a revolutionary drummer with Ornette Coleman’s quartet, and he was what we would call a jazz player, that’s what he did, that’s what he was. But he could play a New Orleans second line because he was from New Orleans.”
Watts has recorded ten jazz albums on his own, in a wide variety of styles, starting in 1986 with Live at Fulham Hall, by the Charlie Watts Orchestra—an oversized orchestra that included seven trumpeters, four trombones, three altoists, six tenors, a baritonist, a clarinetist, two vibraphonists, piano, two basses, Jack Bruce on cello and three drummers. It was abundantly arranged, and some of it—“Lester Leaps In,” with a massive tenor conflagration—was played at breakneck clips. In addition, he has issued recordings with a tentet, a quintet, plus a big band (which played versions of “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and “Paint It Black”); has recorded two Charlie Parker tributes; and has released two luxuriantly scored sets of American Songbook standards—Sweet and Tender and Long Ago and Far Away, both featuring longtime Rolling Stones backing vocalist Bernard Fowler. On the vocal albums, Watts muted his rhythms into a faded heartbeat, guiding songs of longing and loss. His most adventurous work, though, was a sweeping tribute to jazz drummers, in collaboration with drummer Jim Keltner—who has played with Eric Clapton, Ry Cooder, Delaney & Bonny, Bob Dylan, George Harrison, John Lennon, Ringo Starr and Gabor Szabo, among numerous others (Keltner was once regarded as America’s leading session drummer).
On the afternoon in April 2013 when I meet Watts in a Beverly Hills hotel’s small, comfortable conference room, he is dressed in a fine gray suit, only a couple shades darker than his swept back hair. He sits with his legs crossed, and his hands crossed at his wrists above them. We talk a bit about jazz. I tell him I especially like the sprawling and ambitious Charlie Watts-Jim Keltner Project, on which the two played a series of nine tributes with such titles as “Kenny Clarke,” “Roy Haynes,” “Max Roach” and “The Elvin Suite.” They didn’t attempt to emulate the drummers they were recognizing—though in the case of “Airto,” they fairly reconstructed the sound the Brazilian percussionist evoked in Miles Davis’s 1970s ensembles. For the most part, though, Watts and Keltner’s dedications were impressionistic constructions that caught something of the essence of the nine drummers they paid homage to, utilizing unusual instrumentation as well as occasional loops and electronics, plus West African-sounding rhythmic undertows. I tell Watts I especially liked the tracks named after Art Blakey and Tony Williams, and he seems surprised and grateful that an interviewer knows the album. For me, Watts’ jazz recordings stand on their own yet also deepen an understanding of his place in the Rolling Stones. When you hear Watts drum with his stunning tentet on Watts at Scott’s, it’s as if all the beats withheld over the years from his work in an electric blues and pop band have suddenly fallen into place. You can imagine superimposing one perspective over the other, and there you have it: A full picture of the history of drumming emerges in these recordings, as it developed in the blues-based formations of Blakey, Max Roach and—a major touchstone for Watts—Elvin Jones, and finally informed the razor-edged swing that Watts instilled in the Rolling Stones, then winds up some place altogether different in his epic with Keltner.
“Tony Williams has long been one of my favorite drummers,” I say.
Watts talks about seeing Tony Williams in the young drummer’s early years with Miles Davis. “He was so unlike anybody else.” I mention that during an interview with Williams he once told me that the single influence who opened him to drumming so wide was Keith Moon. Watts’ eyes grow wide and he leans his head rearward, as if taken aback. “Blimey,” he says.
When I thought about it, I say, it made sense. “Not to me,” says Watts. “Keith Moon, there was a character. Loved him. There’s only one of him. I miss him a lot. He was a very charming bloke, a lovely guy, really, but quite…”
Watts pauses to make a “whew” sound. “But he could be a difficult guy, really. Actually, there wasn’t only one of him. He was more like three people in one. He used to live here in Los Angeles for a while, in some of his madder days. God, I remember being here once with him when he tried to turn me on to chocolate ants; he was walking about with tins of chocolate ants. That’s what I mean. He was not your regular guy, in that way, but he was, in his heart, a nice guy, I always got on well with him.” Watts shakes his head and smiles at the memory. “He was an amazing drummer with Pete. I don’t know if he was a very good drummer outside of Pete,” he adds, laughing. “A lot of guys, I don’t think, would have liked playing with him. He didn’t play real time or anything. He wasn’t funky or anything. He was a whole other thing. He was on top of everything, and maybe that’s what Tony liked, but you’d never think that Tony was like… I would have thought Roy Haynes was his big influence.
“Tony was a lovely man too, and he was writing some great stuff at the time he died. He was getting out, writing more than just playing. Brilliantly, he was writing brilliantly.
“He was very young when he joined Miles and became this iconic figure. I saw him when he was 18, I think, in London, the first time, when he had the black kit, and nobody played like that. Years later, when he died, I saw the brilliant Roy Haynes do his gig at Catalina’s, and I suddenly thought of Tony as an extension of Roy, which I never realized before. When Tony came to London in the sixties with Miles, like I said before he completely blew everybody away, because nobody played like that. They didn’t ride that way or do things like that. Then I saw his band Lifetime, of course, with Larry Young and John McLaughlin. I went with Mick Taylor to see that. It was fantastic. The three of them were incredible.”
Mainly what Watts talks about that afternoon is durability. I tell him that I’m not aware of any other drummer—at least not a well-known one—who has played with a musical unit for 50 years. For that matter, the only other band I can think of that ran that long was the Duke Ellington Band, from 1923 to 1974: 51 years. Watts seems a little surprised as he pores over the thought of being the single longest-lasting band drummer in history. “Many guys have drummed 50 years,” he says “but I guess it’s true, what you say. When we were going along through the years, and people would say, ‘God, you’ve been going for 20 years,’ or something, my stock answer in those days was, ‘Yeah, but Duke Ellington has been going 40-something years.’ Of course, he never had the same band, really. He had a lot of the same guys in and out. The wonderful Sonny Greer was with him for, blimey, from when he was in his twenties; he must have been 30 years with him, easy, up to the 1950s. Then Ellington swapped a lot of drummers around. So no, there haven’t been…I don’t know what that means, actually, 50 years with one band.”
It must mean that you really like it.
“Well, yeah. Also, I prefer bands to… I’m not Buddy Rich, I’ve never been a jazz musician that’s in a book that you ring up to do a gig. That would worry the life out of me, turning up and playing with people for the first time. I’ve never had that virtuosity. It takes about three or four gigs before I feel comfortable. Most of the drummers I love, really, are band guys, like Sonny. They’ve been in units for a while. It doesn’t happen so much nowadays. Roy Haynes, he’s been in so many great, great bands. Or the bands have been great with him in them, under great leaders—Lester Young, Charlie Parker, Gary Burton. Stan Getz had one of the great bands with him. There’s also a great record with Monk that he did, I think it’s one of the Five Spots. It’s amazing, really. There’s a great album he did with Coltrane called The Beat of a Different Drum. Roy is an amazing guy who plays now as well as he’s ever played. If any young person asked me who they should follow in one’s life, I’d say Roy Haynes. He’s eternally young—there’s absolutely nothing wayward about him. He’s at an age where most guys are not even bothering with it, really. But you put your arm around him, he’s solid. He’s a fantastic man, and a very, very charming guy, beautiful man.
“When the Rolling Stones started, all those other bands were obviously going—they were big—and now we’ve gone past them in years, in longevity. This is nothing to do with fame and fortune or greatness, it’s just longevity, actually, and suddenly we’ve gone past them.”
I point out that probably nobody has drummed so hard, so relentless and fiercely as Watts over a lifetime. “That’s a drummer’s lot,” he says. “When you’d see Otis Redding, that band live, those tempos… He was entertaining, doing it all, but he could stop during a sax solo or something. That drummer, though, was going the whole bloody time. It’s what you do. The drummer is the engine. It’s worse when you get tired and have a lot of the show still to do.
“There’s nothing worse than being out of breath or your hands are killing you, and you still have a quarter of the show to go. That’s the worst one. When you were young, you’d have a drink to get through that, but now I couldn’t do that. I like to be over-ready for things. That’s really one of the reasons why I started to play jazz—the love of it was another—but it was to do other things while we weren’t on the road, because we’d work for two years, and you’d be great at the end of it, and you wouldn’t work for another year or so. I like to do something to keep your hands going, really. But nothing’s ever the same as doing those stages. The stages we worked on recently aren’t quite so big as those sort of stadium things—they’re quite big, actually. We’re going to be doing a couple of them at the end of this, but we’ll see.”
There had been reports about tensions between Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. Any doubts about the 50th anniversary tour?
“Not to me, but to many people there was a doubt. The two big offenders of that virtually lived together when they were kids, didn’t they? They lived down the road from each other. It comes from all that. They’re like brothers, arguing about the rent, and then if you get between it, forget it. They leave you high and dry. I think it’s part of being together for 50 years. Keith couldn’t say things in his book without knowing Mick that well. I haven’t read it, actually, I just heard things he’d said, and it’s what he felt.
“I always thought we should do something for the 50th year, which Bill Wyman informed me actually is this year, it wasn’t last year. I was very in favor of doing a show, or a few of them. It’s all right to do three numbers, but by the time you’ve rehearsed, paid for everybody, it’s like a juggernaut, our thing. It’s not just me and Keith turning up and having fun, although that really is what it is, but the whole thing of it turns into a production, so you generally have to do two or three shows to pay for thinking about getting it together. The shows in London and New York were good, and sort of spurred this on. I hope this is as comfortable as that was, because that was really comfortable to do. I like it when you can see the end of it. When you have an endless list of dates, 50 shows in America or something, you just look at it and go, ‘Oh, Christ.’ But it’s very tempting to carry on, once you’ve started that. As Keith would say, why don’t we do more? It’s logically the thing to do, because the start-up is the hard thing on your body. So obviously, nonstop is the best thing. We’ll see.”
Are the Rolling Stones the best at being the Rolling Stones when they’re on tour or onstage?
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, we are a live band, we always have been. Even in the early days. The Beatles were fabulous in a studio, getting their songs together, but we were much better at entertaining—we were more raucous. I think we’re a better live band than a lot. For your ego, there’s nothing nicer than driving down Santa Monica and hearing yourself on the radio, especially if it’s a new record. But the real fun is on the stage. That’s why I like jazz and why I prefer playing in clubs, because it’s more immediate. It’s just what I like. And I think everybody does, probably apart from Mick, who’s more about songwriting, that sort of thing. I’m sure Keith prefers playing live to the other stuff.” Watts laughs. “People would look at us and hear the music and think, ‘God, why do you bother to rehearse for that?’ But we always do, and we always have done.”
Every night, I offer, it seems like there’s breathing room, there’s a chance for something a little different.
“A lot of that comes from Keith, really. Keith’s very much like playing with a jazz guy, very loose. He can go anywhere, and if you follow him and it’s right, it’s something special, which is kind of what happens with jazz in its moments, really. He’s very much like that. It’s very easy to play with him. You can go anywhere, really, sometimes. Roy Haynes told me you had to be quick with Bird [Charlie Parker], because he was so quick-thinking, his little inflections and that. Keith’s kind of like that. I don’t mean Keith’s like Charlie Parker, but it’s the same feeling. It can go somewhere quick, and if you go with it where he thinks it should go, it’s a lot of fun. That’s why it’s loose. Sometimes we don’t go with it and it falls apart.”
Is going-with-it more difficult on large stages in arenas?
“You can hear better, obviously, in a smaller room, except now the stage equipment is so advanced, really. In the early days, Keith used to have his Vox amplifier on a chair, tilted up so I could hear him. He still does, actually, he has it right by my hi-hat, so I can hear him. In the early days, when it was what I call the Beatle period, which was all screaming girls, you couldn’t hear a bloody thing, actually, but I had to really hear him to know where the song is, because in those days, you didn’t have very good PA. I couldn’t hear what Mick was singing, really. Now it’s quite sophisticated, but also, it’s incredibly loud. When a band like ours goes into a small club, it carries half of that with it, and it’s miles too loud for me in a club. We never used to be like that. It’s very difficult to suddenly jump from that huge stage down to that, it’s pretty hard. We’ve often done a club and then play a big arena, but they are big jumps in sound, what you actually hear.
Keith Richards tells me, more than once, that Charlie Watts is essentially the reason that he still plays with Mick Jagger, and the reason the Rolling Stones endure so well and renew so effectively. Jagger, too, has said he can’t imagine the band continuing without Watts. The Rolling Stones could survive the loss of guitarists Brian Jones and Mick Taylor, and the departure of bassist Bill Wyman. They can withstand years of a world’s distance apart from one another. But they can’t imagine truly being the Rolling Stones without Charlie Watts. Watts is similar-minded: “They are the only people I want to play rock & roll with.”
Much of this is to say that when the Rolling Stones play music together, when they walk on stage together, they are an interesting coalition of history, musicianship, personality, pain, loss, joy, daring, change, and—most important—roughhewn fellowship.
By this time, the longevity of the Rolling Stones has become as distinguishing a characteristic of the band’s history as their blues-indebtedness and all the notoriety and rebelliousness that put them on the map in the first place. That longevity, of course, has taken its toll—at moments their union seemed strained beyond any hope of repair. Yet they know there’s an alchemy at work between them, a collective mystery that is beyond their individual talents or reputations.
Past that, none of the three original members—Charlie Watts, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards—is at ease offering insight into why their legend and appeal survive so potently, but they realize that it endures when they are together, especially in the presence of an audience.
“We’re very, very fortunate,” says Watts. “I’ve always felt that folks have liked this combination of people. Mick, Keith, Brian and Bill: People turned up to see them. First it was 100 attending, then it was 200, then it’s a lot. People love looking at Mick Jagger and watching what Keith’s doing. I don’t know why, but they do. I mean, I do know, I know how good Keith is, and I know Mick is the best frontman going now that James Brown and Michael Jackson have gone. Being out there, he’s the best. He takes it deadly seriously, as well, he keeps himself together. He looks great—everything you could want. I don’t know what it is. You wouldn’t expect them to turn up to see me—it’s like 200 people—but the Rolling Stones say they’re doing something, and we get more people standing outside, listening to our rehearsals, than I do in a club listening to me do a set. It’s something that I’ve got no idea why.”

thx Ned :)

Posted story from publicist Sharyl Holtzman (who some of you may know):

Charlie Watts. It's not often you get to have a personal moment, story with a legend. I had seen his jazz quintet on one of the rare tours they did back in the 90s, at the Jam Productions venue Park West, and it was brilliant like I knew it would be. But I didn't get to meet him until two years ago.
In 2019, before COVID, the Rolling Stones were planning another leg of their No Filter tour, when they had to postpone because Mick Jagger was having heart surgery. I remember the tears, the reminder that the Rolling Stones - like David Bowie, Tom Petty, Prince and so many treasures we have lost - are mortal. My heart sank.
But he recovered, the tour was rescheduled, and kicked off in Chicago's Soldier Field June 21. Throughout the years, the Stones have used Chicago as a base for tours, and combined with their well documented devotion to blues, and their bass player, our friend and homie Darryl Jones' native city, the excitement level was always high.
So Vince Wilburn Jr. had an idea. Also a southside Chicago homeboy, a drummer, his uncle is Miles Davis, and together with his family they are the executors of the Miles Davis Estate. Vince and Darryl are boyhood friends and it was Vince who introduced Darryl to his uncle when he had a bass slot in his band to fill.
At the time the new Miles documentary "Birth of the Cool" was out, and as a gift to his long time drummer pal, Vince set up a private screening of the film for Charlie, Miles was his hero, and Darryl, Bernard Royland Fowler and a few others and they'd watch the film.
And then, the rest of the band heard about it and wanted to come.
So what became a simple gesture to do for a friend, became a gesture of giving a group of legendary music heroes the impossible: a chance to attend a screening as the music fans, music loving musicians they are, civilians. Small, not offend anyone for not being asked to come, no press, no photos, not one leak. Multiple precautions and 3 days of walk throughs for Vince to ensure their privacy and safety.
And it was extraordinary.
A small screening room at the SoHo House that had the feel of a very comfortable home library/study, dark wood, large comfy leather armchairs, lamps. Nicholas Tremulis and Penny Tremulis, Bernard, a few other southside friends, Miles Davis family...and Keith and his daughter Theodora, Ronnie and his wife, and Charlie. Who was the one I made my way to. He is everything that is said about him - sweet, classy, humble, ever a gentleman. So in that rare instant you actually have something of substance to share besides the star struck "I love you so much", I told Charlie I saw him and his quintet at Park West, and literally, his face lit up. "Ah," he said, "such a great room, loved being able to play there" and we talked jazz! This of course all happened in less than two minutes, I didn't want to crowd him - or any of them, none of us did - and he put a hand on my shoulder and said thank you and how nice it was to meet me and hear that story.
And this all happened because Vince wanted to do something nice for his friend. People have often commented "oh it must have been so hard not to want to take a photo" - especially in my line of work - but you know, it wasn't hard at all.
I knew right then I was experiencing something beautiful, something extraordinary. We all watched this film on Miles Davis as fans and hero worshippers. No phones, no cameras, no pretension. A rare opportunity for this band to just 'be.' I didn't need a photo or a video or a news clip. It lives on in my heart forever.
This is dedicated to Vince and Darryl who are hurting over the seismic loss of this incredible person and what he did as a jazz drummer who lived his life in one of the greatest rock bands of all time.

That's a terrific little statement from Townshend.

I like the way that people of this generation seem to take a responsibility for each other in this way - so if you're a Stone, you comment on The Who, or the Kinks, and vice versa, etc.

Not always so positively of course. Especially not if you're Ray Davies.

Great reminder that all the garage and bar bands who wanted to sound like the Stones couldn’t sound like the Stones ‘cause their influence was The Rolling Stones…and maybe Berry, Bo, Waters and Hooker. Bands that create a great sound are the sum of influences, listening and experience that aren’t always obvious.

Now the descendants make their own thing which is great, like a language splitting in to dialects. But you read stuff like this about Watts and wonder how much of the time the band felt like they were missing the target.

Great insights about his drumming here from Stewart Copeland and Max Weinberg, plus a nice anecdote from Weinberg about taking Joe Morello and Mel Lewis to meet him (at Charlie’s request).

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2021/aug/26/stewart-copeland-max-weinberg-on-charlie-watts-rolling-stones

And there’s a synergy with those guitar riffs, and also with Mick Jagger, who is extremely rhythmic with his vocals – he, in that band, more than most, was part of the rhythm section.

quite otm. Jagger and Watts have said often that they follow each other with their eyes on stage more than whoever's on bass.

really good stuff, there, from both copeland and weinberg. copeland has a good description of why watts sounded "loose" here, much better than what i was trying to get at upthread:

I can tell you about the technique, though. Drummers will argue about this long into the night: either how did John Bonham get that mountain of sound, or how did Ringo Starr and Charlie Watts get that feel? Technically, what it is, is that he leads with his right foot on the kick drum, which pushes the band forward. Meanwhile his left hand on the snare, the backbeat, is a little relaxed, a little lazy – and that combination of propulsion and relaxation is the technical definition of what he’s doing. But you can try it yourself, all you want, and it ain’t going to sound like Charlie.

He has caused a lot of damage out there, in the same way Jimi Hendrix came out with a wah-wah pedal – it was the ruination of many guitarists who didn’t get it and ruined their guitar playing with a wah-wah pedal. Similarly, drummers attempting to get that laid-back feel just sound lame. Behind the beat, that’s not good – you’ve got to do it in such a way, like Charlie.

and then really love weinberg's little anecdote here, especially the sweat pants and the t-shirt. i am SO much more a max weinberg then i am a charlie watts, but watts was the kind of guy who actually tempts you to dress up a little:

I first met him around 1979 or 1980 – the Stones were playing a couple of nights in Madison Square Garden, and I was tagging along for this interview for Modern Drummer with a friend of mine. He was wearing a three-piece Savile Row suit, just incredibly turned out, and invites us into his hotel room so he can unpack. He had two beautiful leather suitcases on the bed, and he opened them up. Everything was immaculately folded; there was a precise toiletries kit. It was the exact opposite of the way I travel on the road. He took his clothes out of his suitcases, put them on the bed, refolded them, and put them in the drawers. I had never used a drawer in a hotel room in 15 years of being on the road. I thought it was one of the coolest things I’d ever seen. We did this interview, ordered room service, and he realised he had to get picked up to go to the Garden. He went into the bedroom, and came out wearing sweatpants and a sort of ripped T-shirt. He’d looked like an English lord, with this handsome, aristocratic, craggy face, and now he’s so dressed down to go “play with them”, as he said. Not “go play with my band, our band”, it was always “them, the Stones”. There was this funny kind of distance.

also, weinberg's final line in that is fitting because he reminds me more of watts than just about any other drummer, even down to his posture on the drum throne

They're auctioning off Charlie's library and it's a pretty damn impressive collection. (Mark Wiltshire, the rare books specialist at Christie’s, said it was “the best of its kind in a generation – I know of nothing comparable.")

The jewel in the crown is a first edition of F Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby inscribed “For Harold Goldman, the original ‘Gatsby’ of this story, with thanks for letting me reveal secrets of his past. Alcatraz Cell Block 17 (I’ll be out soon, kid. Remember me to the mob. Fitzgerald)” – an ironic reference to the office at MGM Studios in Hollywood where Fitzgerald and Goldman worked as screenwriters on the film A Yank at Oxford (1938). Jay Gatsby, of course, was a Yank at Oxford himself, boasting to Nick Carraway that “all my ancestors have been educated there”.

Watts’s greatest musical hero was Charlie Parker, and the auction includes reel-to-reel recordings by Parker and a touching letter from Parker to his common-law wife Chan. “To my Darling: To my Beloved, reward for braveing (sic) any and all miseries, I adore you”, signed ‘Bird’, with the original envelope addressed ‘To The Summation of Beauty’.

Faced with the task of assessing all the objects Watts acquired over the years, his daughter Seraphina lamented that there were periods in his life when her father had gone “OCD collecting mad”. Sorting through one chest of drawers she came across objects including Edwardian glasses and carved pipes. “I wanted to say to him, what is this? It could be Roman and incredibly valuable or it could just be a piece of junk.”

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/music/news/charlie-watts-rolling-stones-drummer-books-jazz-christies/

Really good breakdown of Charlie's playing on "Get Off My Cloud" - includes the Copeland and Weinberg quotes above

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0m-yxHnjXE