Kristen Stewart Goes For A Ride in New Rolling Stones Video

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In the new music video from The Rolling Stones, Kristen Stewart stars as a too-cool-for-school reckless driver in a seemingly post-apocalyptic Los Angeles.

KStew encounters burning cars, strange civilians, and even wild zebras as she races through a world of concrete and puddles. The vid is for the Stones’ killer new song “Ride ‘Em On Down,” off their latest album Blue and Lonesome, which became available to stream online in full just today.

Blue and Lonesome is comprised entirely of covers of other classics – “Ride ‘Em On Down” is originally by Eddie Taylor. The Stones recorded the entirety of the new album in just three days in London.

Check out the clip below:

This Week: Ray-Bans & Rolling Stones Celebrate Milestone Anniversaries

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I was so crazy yesterday that I forgot to do the one thing I really wanted to do. This season does that to you. I wanted, expected, ached to attend the Ray-Ban: 75 Years of Legends event at The Darby last night. The Flaming Lips performed. I will attend the Rolling Stones concert as they bring their 50th anniversary tour to the Barclays Center on Saturday. It’s amazing that we are celebrating something that started 50 years ago and another thing that’s 75 years of tradition.

On this oldie-but-goodie tip, we have the wonderful Beatles cover band, the Newspaper Taxis, performing Revolver at the Red Lion, 151 Bleecker St. According to my pal Brian August, The Beatles never performed any part of Revolver live. My ex- wife Jennifer Hamdan did cover “Tomorrow Never Knows” when she was signed to Next Plateau Records. Her track failed to make it to any plateau, but it was fun. Still on the oldies tip, Gary Spencer will celebrate his 50th birthday with a bash tonight at  his Hanky Panky attachment to Webster Hall. Oldies but goodies – the prodigy producer/mixer Neil McLellan and good ol’ Andy Rourke (The Smiths) – will DJ, and The Darling Darling Music Company will perform live.

Older than Methuselah, Marty Abrahams told me about his solo exhibition “Break On Through” at the Salomon Arts Gallery, which will happen on 12/12/12 from 6pm till 9pm. If I’m not at that mega, super duper, ginormous Sandy relief concert at the Garden with Paul McCartney, Bruce Springsteen, The Who, Roger Waters and all those other old guys, then I will attend Marty’s thing.

Somebody who never ages and whose humor is timeless, Murray Hill, will bring his annual “Murray Little Christmas” to us next Saturday the 15th, from 8pm to midnight to Le Poisson Rouge, 158 Bleecker St. Murray is amazing, amazing, amazing. Here’s the scoop:

“Expect an evening of hilarious and wacky skits with the cast, a sleigh full of cheesy holiday songs, plenty of nuts, fruits and tree trimming. This year’s special guests:

BRIDGET EVERETT (carnal chanteuse and fearless cabaret star), ERIN MARKEY (wacky performance artist), CARMINE COVELLI (a.k.a. SEBASTIAN THE ELF), THE NYC BURLESQUE CHOIR (conducted by Shelly Watson) with live swinging holiday music from Murray’s band THE CRAIG’S LIST QUARTET (Jesse Elder–piano, Kenball Zwerin–bass, Matt Parker–saxaphone, Arthur Vint–drums and rimshots). Set design by Steven Hammel."

The Stones Concert at Barclays: My Conversation With Mick Jagger

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On Saturday night, while the rest of the world thought what they were doing was important, I found myself in the perfect place…in the perfect situation. The Rolling Stones brought their 50th anniversary tour to the brilliant Barclays Center. As the show ended, I posted this on Facebook.

 "The Mayans can be completely right and it will be alright as I have just seen the Rolling Stones, the greatest rock band ever. I can go quietly into the night ,as this night, I got what I want and what I needed… absolutely religious." 

A friend close to the action Saturday night told me that Martin Scorsese and Naomi Campbell and Mary K. and Ashley Olsen and a ton of others were in the house. He’s a backstage kind of guy who told me how cool they always are. I’ve met them from time to time, save for Ronnie who would have been the easiest when he had his joint down in South Beach. They were always accessible, human. Watching them on the giant stage shaped like their trademark lips and tongue, it was hard to believe they could be anything but out-of-reach rock stars. As a 10-year-old in Connecticut, we heard the Stones on a car radio. My hot cousin’s boyfriends would take us on Slim Jim and Birch Beer runs in speedsters on curvy roads.We promised not to tell. We waited to hear the Stones on the car radio. I told Mick this story one night in a club I had a lifetime ago. Around 1988. He was coming by regularly. As I sat in the back office, I couldn’t grasp that this was the prancing icon. He listened intently as I told this tale.

"It was the fall of 1964 and the Lewis clan was huddled in our country home in Connecticut. We had a party line telephone. Two rings was us, one the neighbor. We had two channels on the T.V., you know, one of those giant pieces of furniture with a small screen. For us, it was the window to the world. The days were spent fishing and exploring the deep woods. At night we were glued to the magic. 

On October 25th, 1964 we had a crisis. The Rolling Stones were going to be on Ed Sullivan, on one channel while the other channel offered the Lawrence Welk Show. My grandparents never missed the Lawrence Welk Show with its polkas and show tunes. My cousin Ron and my brother Paul plotted all week to see the Stones. We were always tasked to give the old-folk warm milk after the show so they would go to sleep easily. We decided to come in early and strong and give them so many glasses of warm milk that they would pass out, we could switch channels, and see our gods. It worked. Right before the show, after multiple milks, they passed out.

We switched and saw the Stones for the first time. There was no internet then and few magazines would have their image. There were no posters up in our neck of the woods. We didn’t know what to expect. There they were, brash and horribly wonderful. We were in awe, stirred to life maybe for the very first time.

In the middle of their first track, the Chuck Berry cover "Around & Around," my Grandparents woke up and started to mildly complain. They pointed out that the Stones hairdos made them look like girls and they couldn’t understand the words… but they let us watch."

While telling Jagger this story, he interjected: "So let me get this straight…you drugged your grandparents to watch me on the television." I said "yes." He then added: "You realize they knew." I didn’t understand. He continued: "You realize they were in on your plot and went along with it because it was important to you." 

We had never realized that but it was obvious he was right, and I felt the love my grandparents who were long gone held for us once again. I got goosebumps, and Mick told me he loved the story. 

The Stones woke me in every way. They were outside the box that I have always avoided, sometimes successfully. That Ed Sullivan Show was 48 years ago. As I stood in the Barclays seeing them at their 50th anniversary show, I realized how my life has coincided with their carreer. I had seen them 10 or more times over the decades. Threw a party for Bill Wyman, met Keith at Life when he played a Christmas show with Ronnie Spector and Mick a few other times, and now it seemed like this would be the last time.

There was a seriousness about the concert, as if this would be the end of the run. Mick ran around a lot less than back in the day. Shoot, me and almost the entire crowd runs around a lot less. It was surreal seeing him doing it well at 69. The anthems had an almost religious feeling… providing a calm reflection of the thread that was fraying.

The show ended and I bought bags of t-Shirts and scooted over to Hotel Chantelle to give them to my girl. I had attended the show with my brother, a birthday gift to my co-conspirator back in ’64. They’ve got two shows coming at the Prudential Center in New Jersey. Tickets are stoooopid expensive. I’m gonna have to go. The second song the Rolling Stones performed on Ed  Sullivan in that dream of a night so long ago was "Time Is On Our Side." That was true then, but not anymore. I’m gonna hock the watch and see them again.

The Olympics & Clubland, Mick Jagger Turns 69

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With major events starting this weekend, the million-pound question is this: how will the Olympics affect clubland?

The time difference between London and New York has events slated between 4am and 6pm. The ability and the where-with-all to record shows for later viewing has increased sharply over the years. Will this Olympics be the TIVO Olympics, or will the public miss most of it or take sick days to see relevant events? In hospitality, sports bars will open early to accommodate viewers, and their bottom line will get a boost. Sports bars thrive during the NFL and College Football seasons, but baseball and its boys of summer rarely attract big crowds. The added revenue stream is a blessing.

Will clubbers be too tired to party hardy at night? Will they leave joints early because they plan on staying awake or getting up early to catch Michael Phelps live or a USA basketball team game? Will mid-day or afternoon beers slow sales at night?  My bet is that the only effect these Olympics will have on clubland is they’ll probably upgrade the small talk and pick-up lines.

I’m excited about the inaugural Catalpa Festival on Randall’s Island this weekend. It’s a 1pm-11pm affair on Saturday and Sunday with such acts as Hercules and Love Affair, TV On The Radio, The Black Keys, Matt+ Kim, and Girl Talk performing.  Snoop Doog will perform “Doggystyle” in its entirety. There is a reggae stage and a dance music venue with names like Alex English, Felix Da Housecat, and Hellfire Machina involved.

While I’m DJing at Hotel Chantelle tonight with Sam Valentine and Jes Leopard, another rocker event will be rocking at Sullivan Room. The party, called “Take Back New York," will celebrate Nicki Camp & Kerry Robinson’s belated birthdays.

Belated is right: Nicki was born on July 1st. I bet he’s telling folks he’s 29. I worked with Nicki when he ran those Sunday Rock and Roll Church nights at Limelight and kept in touch when he plied his trade at Don Hill’s. Tonight there will be performances by the New York All-Stars (Shannon Conley, Nicki Camp, Jimi K. Bones, Dave Purcell, Adam James, Al Mars), with special guests Michael T & The Vanities.

The soiree will be hosted by Lourdes Castellon and Ahmed Adil, and DJ Victor Auton will spin rock, metal, glam, and alternative throughout the night. I always liked Nicki and I wish him a belated 29th birthday.

Speaking of rockers, my favorite craggly-faced old bastard Mick Jagger celebrates his 69th birthday today. That makes me feel old, yet on some level, a bit young. I’ll have my editor link you back to last year’s article, which sums up my feelings toward Mick. The bottom line is that my set tonight will be top heavy with Rolling Stones tracks, and I’ll toast to Mick as I look forward to the 50th Anniversary Tour, which I hear will be pushed back to 2013. Somehow, a 51st Anniversary Tour sounds dodgy.

Personal Faves: How I Spent My Rent Check On A Rolling Stones Concert

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Instead of ending the year with a slew of Best Of lists, BlackBook asked our contributors to share the most important moments in art, music, film, television, and fashion that took place in 2012. Here, Hillary Hughes writes about dropping a load of money on the greatest living rock ‘n’ rollers, The Rolling Stones.

“You paid HOW MUCH FOR ROLLING STONES TICKETS?!”

I had made the mistake of casually mentioning to my mother that I spent a month’s rent (literally) on a pair of tickets to watch The Rolling Stones perform at the Barclays Center, and she was completely shocked and appalled. “You’re irresponsible! I’m not gonna tell you how to spend your money, but Jesus, Hilary … they’re just so old. I wouldn’t have paid half that to see them twenty years ago let alone now.”

Mom wasn’t alone in thinking that. When The Rolling Stones announced the handful of select cities they’d visit on 50 and Counting…, the band’sfiftieth anniversary tour, their age (“But Keith Richards is probably gonna die soon!”) and the $100-$900 price range for seats were topics more avidly discussed than the fact that this rock band had made it through to the better half of a century together. My friends thought I was borderline institutional for entertaining the idea of wasting two hours and hundreds of dollars on The Rolling Stones, and so a volley of YouTube clips hit my inbox, a damning reel of highlights recorded from recent awards shows and other anniversary tours that displayed an exhausted-looking Richards and a flailing, shouting Mick Jagger in a most unfavorable light. Even my dad—the man responsible for my Rolling Stones fandom and the one whose glove compartment I lifted a tape of Tattoo You from at the age of ten—was taken aback by the fact that I was so determined to find tickets to the Brooklyn show of 50 and Counting… just to watch a band of senior rock musicians “who’ve seen better days” play through a predictable set list.

No one seemed to get why I was so hell-bent on seeing The Rolling Stones, so when the time to hit the “Confirm Reservation” button came, I had forgotten why I had decided to hand over my rent check to TicketMaster in exchange for the chance to see the greatest rock band in history play songs that mean more to me than even I understand—and I subsequently freaked the fuck out. I forgot about how, while driving back and forth between Brooklyn and Boston this fall, Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed anchored my sanity on I-84, especially because “Call Me Maybe” and “Some Nights,” two of the most lyrically inept songs ever written, were also Clear Channel’s favorite singles to play and therefore unavoidable unless I dodged Connecticut’s airwaves throughout the course of the four-hour drive. I forgot that the first real conversation I had with my dad about music was about The Rolling Stones, one about his favorite song of theirs, “Bitch,” and how it was overshadowed by “Brown Sugar” on 1971’s Sticky Fingers. I forgot about how I’d told an ex-boyfriend that I wanted to walk down the aisle to “Happy” should we ever get married, and I forgot about how many times I opted to belt the chorus to “Gimme Shelter” into a hairbrush in front of a mirror as a teenager.

I more or less forgot about the fact that The Rolling Stones have provided the off-peak soundtrack to my life, despite the fact that I was born fourteen years after the release of Exile on Main St. I sought solace in the straightforward tenacity of their choruses instead of settling for the shitty, manufactured pop songs that my friends sang along with when they came on at the dive bar, and the musical inclinations of Jagger, Richards & Co. have set the standard for my taste as a listener, fan, and critic from the get-go.

I had forgotten all of this, and yet with one play of “Doom and Gloom,” the first single from their newly released greatest hits collection, I came to. I clicked “Confirm” and that was that. I was going to see The Rolling Stones, and I was going because I needed to see them—to hear the steady build of “Gimme Shelter,” to groan when “Miss You” made an appearance, to jump up and down like a maniac during “Get Off Of My Cloud”—and this was the first time I’ve ever felt so compelled to declare my love for a band so openly before, despite the fact that I knew that I was potentially setting myself up for the kind of epic disappointment that can only occur when your expectations of meeting your idol fall short.

Thankfully, Mick, Keith, Ronnie and Charlie eviscerated every skeptic thought in the house when they took the stage at the Barclays Center for the big event on December 8. Though 50 and Counting… could’ve been the safe and tired victory lap of a final tour, the scene that unfolded was that of a jovial reunion, one where Ronnie Wood galloped across the stage without hitting a wrong note while Richards took to his solos with the effortless dexterity of a person who has cradled the neck of a guitar in his hands more frequently than he hasn’t over the course of the past fifty years. Jagger’s bellow reached the highest and lowest recesses of his range, and though his gait and the topography of his face tell the truth about his age, the flamboyant frontman ran at the crowd with an identical fervor to that of himself thirty years prior. (Or so I’m told, anyway). Richards and Wood sauntered back to the drum kit and turned and faced the arena before them in unison, and as Jagger shimmied, clapped and convulsed while the room erupted as the hits flew into the ether, I stood there slack-jawed thinking about how impossible it was for them to be so good when time, logic and the basic truths of the human form seemed to be working against them.

The show may not have been perfect—my prediction of a Beyoncé cameo during “Gimme Shelter” disintegrated when Mary J. Blige showed up, and “Midnight Rambler,” well, rambled—but to say that I got what I paid for would be an immense understatement. 2012, for me, was the year when Autotune became a superficial stylistic choice as opposed to a performance crutch, where The Black Keys farmed out the track list of El Camino to any studio that wanted to opt it for a movie trailer and a song like “Call Me Maybe” earned more accolades for its saccharine hooks than any other single on the charts. It was also the year of The Rolling Stones, in that the rock icons showed the world, and me, that a good song is an immortal thing that can only grow stronger with age—and that a fiftieth anniversary tour isn’t to be met with the same expectations of a retirement party. 

Follow Hillary Hughes on Twitter

Ronnie Wood’s New Wife Is Almost Half His Age

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True love, man.

Rolling Stones guitarist got hitched to Wife #3, theater producer Sally Humphreys, on Friday in London.

Humphreys is a spritely 34-years-old to Wood’s considerably more Hefnerian 65. According to Billboard, the couple met nine years ago but only began dating in the last six months. Sir Paul McCartney and his wife Nancy Shevell attended, while Rod Stewart served as best man. Also, the groom wore hot pink socks.

More importantly, the kissy pics of the groom and his bride published on the UK’s Sun are the Internet’s best skin care advertisement. Moisturize, everyone! 

Contact the author of this post at Jessica.Wakeman@Gmail.com. Follow me on Twitter.

Florence Welch Performs ‘Gimme Shelter’ With Rolling Stones

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That one-year hiatus that Florence Welch is taking a break from touring? Performing Gimme Shelter onstage with the Rolling Stones on Thursday night in London doesn’t count.

The Florence + The Machine singer, who announced earlier this month that she would be taking time off to write a musical with a friend  (… just go with it, she’s rich), joined Mick, Keith and the others for one of the concerts for the band’s 50th anniversary.

You can watch the performance — which kind of looked like a really awkward dance-off between two drunk relatives at a family reunion — below: 

Contact the author of this post at Jessica.Wakeman@Gmail.com. Follow me on Twitter.

Mick Jagger’s Love Letters For Sale At Sotheby’s

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This weirdest manifestation of celebrity is the sale over private correspondence, in particular love letters, between auction houses. The latest: Marsha Hunt, an ex-girlfriend of Mick Jagger and the mother of his first child, is selling 10 love letters penned by her Rolling Stone through Sotheby’s. 

According to Yahoo News, 25-year-old Mick wrote the love letters while working on the film Ned Kelly in Australia. The letters touch on subjects like the moon landing and John Lennon/Yoko Ono but also include song lyrics and set lists. They go on sale in Decemeber.

Hunt met the Rolling Stones while working as a model in the 1960s and got involved in a love affair with Mick, which resulted in her only child, Karis. The mixed race model/singer/author was the inspiration for the Stones’ song Brown Sugar

Contact the author of this post at Jessica.Wakeman@Gmail.com. Follow me on Twitter.

Mick Jagger Had ‘Clandestine Affair’ With Carla Bruni, Got Shot Down By Angelina Jolie

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There is no question that Mick Jagger has romanced a lot of women in his day. (Well, "romanced" might not be the right word.) But a new biography Mick: The Wild Life And Mad Genius Of Jagger by Christopher Anderson plumbs the depths of this rock star’s insatiable libido, revealing the details of how he stole former French First Lady Carla Bruni away from Eric Clapton and also got shot down by none other than Angelina Jolie. 

Jagger met Carla Bruni, then a 23-year-old model and heiress, in 1990 while on the Urban Jungle tour. But she wasn’t just a pretty woman following the tour: she was on the arm of Jagger’s friend Eric Clapton. And Clapton was in love, Mick claims. But that didn’t stop Jagger and Bruni from carrying on a "clandestine affair," as Clapton put it. It crushed Clapton and did not please Jagger’s main lady, Jerry Hall, either. Poor Hall learned exactly what looking the other way entailed when Jagger flew off to Thailand with Bruni while Hall was laying in the hospital with their newborn daughter. For her part, Bruni promised her boyfriend in a note (which was found by Hall), "I’ll be your mistress forever." 

Their affair didn’t quite turn out to last "forever": Carla Bruni notably moved on to both publisher Jean-Paul Enthoven and his son (!), the philosopher Raphael Enthoven, and later to the French President Nicolas Sarkozy. And Mick moved on, too: Mick reports that the singer fell head over heels for Angelina Jolie while she played the part of a stripper in a Rolling Stones video. 

Mick — like every other dude on the planet — was turned on by Angelina’s dark side, saying "She scares me a little. I like that." Jagger pursued her ardently and yet she felt mostly apathetic; they carried on together for years while she was dating other men and starring in increasingly high-profile movie roles. One wonders if they never quite gelled as a couple because Jolie was not content to merely be a rock star’s girlfriend but to be an A-lister in her own right. 

The revelations in Mick may not be news to Rolling Stones-philes. But for anyone who needs the gaps filled in their rock star history, Mick would seem to do the trick.