Whoever first coughed up the phrase 'Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll' must have been watching a Rolling Stones concert.
Performing in Mumbai on April 7, Sir Michael Jagger, Keith Richards, Ronnie Wood, Charlie Watts and their entourage dished out all three in sumptuous measure.
There were dazzling lights and rolling cameras. There was a 40 foot-high stage, crunching music and spraying confetti. There was the giant cherry-red tongue, the official logo of the Rolling Stones' Licks World Tour, which came to libidinous life in a way fans would never have imagined in their most lurid fantasies. Every sliver of action was captured as it happened on a gargantuan digital plasma screen.
But most of all, there was Mick Jagger.
And Keith Richards. And Ronnie Wood. And Charlie Watts.
Mumbai couldn't have got any more satisfaction than it did on Monday night.
Posters had announced that the show would begin at 7.30pm. But as late as 15 minutes to eight, crowds were snaking restlessly into Brabourne Stadium in a 2km long line that wound, thankfully, past a row of eateries and watering holes. Some anxious spectators-to-be, holding up bright blue Rs 2,000 tickets like placards, spilled out onto the road, slowing traffic down to a crawl. A few, ruffled by rumours that the concert had already begun, mobbed the police, security guards and organizers as they sieved the milling throng through three narrow gates.
Once inside, they were calmed.
The stage was dark and empty. The lights were dim. House music -- dull, somnolent blues -- played on the public address system.
Presently, the speakers crackled to life, and through a haze of witchy psychobabble, the unmistakable shape of Mick Jagger stormed on stage in a tasselled blue jacket, hair flying back, sinuous abdomen arched forward, legs splayed akimbo -- the raunchy sex symbol that once pouted on the walls of everyone who had grown up with the Stones since the 1960s. But it was not just the silver-haired that cheered at the spectacle of the rock star they were beholding for the first time in the flesh; most of the audience was less than half Jagger's age.
Here he was, belting out vocals like an ageless Don Juan, still raunchy three months to turning 60.
Jagger dripped sexuality even before he stripped to his bare torso. But he really cranked up his tantalising spell on the audience when he invited backing vocalist Lisa Fisher to sashay alongside him and, as the weak-hearted in the audience gasped, run her hand along his crotch. And when he roared 'Dhanyavaad' to the audience, it cheered.
If the prudish felt they had experienced enough steam for one night, they were wrong. For the song Honky tonk woman, the action shifted to the plasma screen at the back of the stage, which played an animation film of a topless woman being swallowed whole by the giant animated tongue.
Drugs have never been far from the Stones' agenda, and those who have listened to the band's Brown sugar and Beast of burden know that well. But tonight, guitarist-singer Keith Richards made no bones about making a public request for a 'joint', accompanied by a broad wink magnified manifold on the big screen that drew huge cheers from the audience, already wrapped in a haze of tobacco and marijuana smoke. He then tipped whatever he was smoking into the crowd.
But the evening truly belonged to rock and roll. The Stones played favourites from their latest compilation Forty Licks. Start me up, You can't always get what you want and (I can't get no) Satisfaction roused the crowd to reverberating cheers. And when Jagger slowed the tempo to soothe the audience with Angie, everyone wished the friskers at the gate had not confiscated the cigarette lighters.
Truth be told, tighter bands have played in India, but the Rolling Stones delivered the ultimate lesson in what makes for luscious entertainment. The audience was treated to mind-bending live views on screen -- even one from a dinky camera strapped to Richards's guitar neck. Multimedia and music came together in hip-locking grind as the Stones' goulash of unabashed sexuality, bouncy riffs and inimitable stage presence taught every aspiring rock 'n' roll star in the audience where to look for advice.
In the end, the Rolling Stones licked Mumbai like only they can. Forty times over.
