The Rolling Stones: Rock And Roll Circus
Filed Under: Music, Reviews | Article Tags : DVD review , music on dvd
By: Erik Swift
November 2004
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Swinging London was an epicenter of rock in late 1968, and musicians of the era often had friendly rivalries on and off the charts. It was a crowded but creative time – everyone was close to or hitting career highs. The Who were starting to record the influential “Tommy.” The Kinks had released “The Kinks Are The Village Preservation Society.” Traffic was breaking up after releasing their self-titled album and sprawling double LPs from the splintering Beatles (“The White Album”), Cream (“Wheels Of Fire”), and The Jimi Hendrix Experience (“Electric Ladyland”) signaled each group’s coming demise. In the pipeline: Blind Faith and the Faces, and the heavier noise of Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath beckoned. On the cusp of its greatest years was a band that would outlast them all: The Rolling Stones.
November 1968 was not a good time for them. Coming off a year of drug busts and the shoddy “Their Satanic Majesties Request,” the band had serious concerns that went well beyond that album’s “Sgt. Pepper”- style bumbling. Sights were squarely set on a blues/rock hybrid that would be perfected over their next few albums and the new release “Beggars’ Banquet” would start their most fertile period, yet guitarist Brian Jones and being off the road were major issues. Without Jones, the Rolling Stones would not exist. The band’s founder and most accomplished musician, his savvy quickly brought them to the forefront of the British Invasion. Over time, the power struggle that developed between Jones and the songwriting team of singer Mick Jagger and guitarist Keith Richards gradually pushed him out of the leadership position he had first held. A recent arrest for hash possession would deny him a visa, hence ripping away any tour possibilities outside of England for the band. Sinking into the depths of drug addiction, Jones was becoming an incoherent sagging weight, and his slide was largely why they had barely performed in public over the previous two years.
The Rolling Stones were faced with twin dilemmas: what the hell to do with Jones and how to debut new material live – anywhere. With one fell swoop, filming a one-off TV appearance to satiate fans and the public eye garnered favor. For a group known as the antithesis of the formerly family-friendly Beatles, the prospect of performing for strait-laced BBC brass surely must not have appealed to Jagger, Richards, Jones, bass man Bill Wyman or drummer Charlie Watts. Yet, the financial rewards that would be reaped from both the Beeb and American television networks fighting to air it combined with a limited gamble on Jones’ demeanor were too much to ignore. Even better than the cash, how about inviting some buddies over and make it a party? Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithfull were the couple du jour – why not rope her in? Whoever incorporated the circus atmosphere into a rock and roll setting is debatable. Jagger – a music business svengali if there ever was – is largely credited with the idea, but the coup de grace was bypassing top circus tropes for second-rate acts and dressing the musicians and audience members for the occasion. It would make everything a bit seedier, and, well, British now wouldn’t it? Instantly, the Holy Grail of rock cinema, “The Rolling Stones Rock And Roll Circus,” was born.
As a document of its time, “Circus” is a treasure to behold. Buried for years after its December 11-12, 1968 filming, rumors circulated that the Stones – Jagger in particular – were unsatisfied with their performance and junked it because The Who upstaged them. Judge for yourself: unearthed and released decades later in 1996, “Circus” has now made its DVD debut courtesy of Abkco Records. Just about everyone is here except Austin Powers. Well, that and maybe Jimi Hendrix, my father and the incoming President Nixon. Several Americans were invited to the musical party of the year; Johnny Cash and The Isley Brothers were asked but unavailable and only Henry St. Clair Fredericks (a.k.a. Taj Mahal) managed to show. A pre-Sabbath Tony Iommi pops up with Jethro Tull and so are clowns, trapeze artists and fire-eaters and sword-swallowing freaks. John Lennon left his quarrelling Beatles to front The Dirty Mac with a freshly Cream-less Eric Clapton on guitar, Richards on bass and the Jimi Hendrix Experience’ Mitch Mitchell on drums. Yoko Ono would be stepping into that too? “Circus” is as loony, crazy and inspired as it sounds.
Brigitte Bardot was allegedly asked to be the ringmaster, but at the start it’s clear that Jagger fits that role as well as that bombshell would have. Jethro Tull was chosen over a ton of acts, including Led Zeppelin, to give “Circus” new blood. Tull had lucked out to be trying out Iommi at the time, as guitarist Mick Abrahams had left only days earlier. It is probably this situation that led to Tull’s use of a prerecorded backing track and only flautist Ian Anderson was recorded live. The first act of the evening, Tull rocks its “Song For Jeffrey.” Iommi, drummer Clive Bunker and bassist Glenn Cornick look great miming around the frantic Anderson, despite the guitar not being plugged in. Next up, the Who. On the road nonstop since a roaring appearance at the Monterey International Pop Festival in June the previous year, the Who were a tight, toughened onstage force no one ever wanted to follow. “A Quick One (While He’s Away)” had become a centerpiece of their live shows. The song’s six sections were theatric highlights of “Circus,” and the band is so explosive on the tiny stage that it’s a wonder the animals weren’t startled enough to stampede. Blowing the roof off the tent is drummer Keith Moon, a dancing fool behind the other clowns delivering their first operatic work. Roger Daltrey sings so hard his pants get tighter with each line, while guitarist Pete Townshend’s windmills are held in check as John “The Ox” Entwistle ably secures the quartet with his bass runs. On a second take of the song, Moon soaked his tom toms in water, and droplets fly everywhere with each flurry. It’s easy to picture a passed-out Jones, his head lolling to one side backstage, and Jagger rolling his eyes a few feet away, turning his head and pursing his lips while staring at the ‘oo, grumbling to himself, “Shit. We have to top that.”
His then-girlfriend, Marianne Faithfull, stands head and shoulders above the Patti Scialfas and Courtney Loves of music – the paramour who gets a bigger spotlight for who they’re dating, not her talent. Faithfull, who had like Ono endured a painful miscarriage two weeks earlier, delivers a great rendition of the Gerry Coffin/Carole King composition “Something Better.” An exquisite appearance belies inner agony: her fabulous crepe outfit combined with perfectly cut hair and strong delivery contradicts the weathered future in her midst. It’s a good thing she was filmed without anyone around, because any male (human or animal) would melt. Given her poor physical condition, it’s a brave performance and one that could not have been possible without Mick’s gentle urging. The throaty Taj Mahal and his band follow. Seeing a black man in a cowboy outfit leading three white guys through the blues in 1968 didn’t go unnoticed in America or England. A revelation, the group cooks, rumbling the tent poles with an ass-shaking take on Homer Banks’ “Ain’t That A Whole Lot Of Love,” a blatant assimilation of The Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin’.”
Former Davis singer Steve Winwood had later formed Traffic, but word had gotten out that he was soon to become a free agent. When first asked to take part in “Circus” by assembling a supergroup, he readily accepted but fell ill. The task went to John Lennon, who snatched up his first shot playing live since the Beatles’ 1966 finale at Candlestick Park. Nabbing Eric Clapton to play guitar on “Yer Blues,” one of many masterpieces on “The White Album,” Lennon also scored Mitch Mitchell, fresh from an Experience tour, to hit the skins. Richards, who occasionally filled in for Wyman if he wasn’t present at the Stones’ recording sessions, would handle bass. With that, a mouth-watering one-off known as The Dirty Mac was formed. The band’s name can be taken as a dig on Paul McCartney but they unleash a spine-tingling performance light years away from anything Wings ever did. Prefaced by hysterical offstage banter between Mick and John, this is the “those guys are just fuckin’ killer” jam. “Yer Blues” totally smokes, and Clapton handles his buddy George Harrison’s licks well. During the song, they often look at each other and have to think “Holy Dirty Mac”! When these guys hit the final note, Lennon lets out a joyful cheer as if to say “I CAN do it.” Absolute musical euphoria occurs until Yoko Ono climbs up during “Whole Lotta Yoko.” She’s the shark in “Jaws,” getting closer and closer to the microphone swimmer as the audience goes “Nooooooooooo! Don’t do it!” Clapton’s grin disappears and Lennon looks like the guy on the Titanic telling everyone things will be fine. Regarded as a performance artist, she brings The Dirty Mac back down to earth, quickly sinking them with her incessant yowling. Guest violinist Ivry Gitlis forces a smile, but Keith’s distaste for her presence on his stage is clear at the song’s end. Think of the guys from “Jackass” busting into “Ocean’s Twelve.” It’s that laughably ruinous.
Ladies and gentlemen: The Rolling Stones. An off-kilter “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” makes for a rough start, and the nearly two years they’d been off the road are showing. Regaining their step with the gritty blues of the new “Parachute Woman,” all the junk about Brian Jones is nearly laid to rest with his amazing slide work on “No Expectations.” Want to know why women of all ages lust for Mick? Watch his sinewy frame wiggle throughout the unreleased “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” a number that wouldn’t appear until the following year’s “Let It Bleed.” A couple of girls at the screening I attended purred, “MMM. Is he ever sexy,” as he shook his ass and panders to the camera during the song. The moaning grew louder as the singer peeled his shirt off to lamely reveal fake tattoos during “Sympathy For The Devil.” By now, Jones is on another planet and fades into the background, reduced to shaking the maracas as Nicky Hopkins’ piano and Rocky Dijon’s congas assist this final performance by the Stones’ original lineup. At the end of the evening, a bleary band half-reads/half-sings the lyrics to “Salt Of the Earth” from a sheet of paper. Surrounded by the audience in the stands, Keith nods off mid-read. If this was a bad night for the Stones, the world could go for a few more of them.
The DVD is a must-get. The commentaries and bonus material are of equal worth as the entire film. The inclusion of three additional Taj Mahal performances is just so cool. Jesse Ed Davis, Gary Gilmore and Chuck Blackwell are a revelation, and watching and listening to their work with Taj is great fun. Their status as both non-Musician Union members and Americans (paging Jake and Elwood Blues) led to their being filmed first before the stage was finished or the entire audience arrived, a fact unearthed during the fabulous commentaries. Majal, Anderson, Jagger, Faithfull, director Michael Lindsey-Hogg and others expound upon a film that formed many memories. An articulate Townshend interview is a riot, but the inspiration to present “Yer Blues” in a TK 2 quad split format allows an unequaled viewing experience of arguably the night’s greatest moment. Richards is clearly visible tearing it up on bass, although a typical Keith move would have been accidentally dropping it on the writhing Ono beneath him. Jones’ introduction of classical pianist Julius Katchen is a cringe-inducing ten seconds, but the tuxedoed gent’s unseen “Ritual Fire Dance” and “Sonata in C, First Movement” are played so hard on his Steinway that sweat rolls down his face. It’s not hard to understand his performance being excised from “Circus.” The air of aristocracy to something as hip as this production added a touch of class that didn’t fit.
Unseen clowns and an Easter egg featuring Jagger staring down a tiger are present, along with “Close But No Cigar,” a forty-second scratch fest of additional Lennon/Jagger humor while Yoko and Lennon’s son Julian look on. The inclusion of the video for Fatboy Slim’s remix of “Sympathy For The Devil” is nice but altogether unnecessary. The audio, whether 5.1 surround or 2.0 stereo, crisply delivers and a new digital transfer from the original 16mm negative looks great, despite hairs in the gate (buildup caused by the new French cameras used during filming) that occurred and were magnified through the passing of time. I learned this from Robin Klein, the Post Production Producer/Editor of “Circus” at an Abkco post-screening party. Klein, who has seen every inch of this film since 1989 in an assortment of ways, explained that the various bootleg copies of the film or certain segments that have popped up over the years are now outdated. The Who’s portion is notably entirely re-edited from previously released versions of this 66-minute epic. Whether that conveys even more adrenaline from the quartet and lessens a powerful set from the Stones, two things remain clear: Abcko Records knows how to throw a party regardless of the decade, and “The Rolling Stones Rock And Roll Circus” is priceless.
Reviewer’s Opinion:BUY IT!!
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