The Stones in the Park

As we seem to be on a brief 'summer of '69' theme here, it's fitting to mention that the Rolling Stones are once again playing Hyde Park, 44 years on from their legendary free concert.

Given the glorious weather we've been having of late, a friend and I decided on a last-minute outing to the park this time last week, sans ticket (hmm, £95?), to soak up the amtosphere and, maybe hear and see something of the occasion. My pal decided it would be nice to watch Stones in the Park for old times' sake, before setting off; I left her to it, as I've seen the film so many times its every utterance and sun-dappled image is imprinted on my brain. (Unlikely, but if that woman with the 'harp' in speakers corner walked past me today I swear I'd recognise her.) Funny, I remember when it was something of a rarity for the film to be shown on British TV (certainly once or twice during the 1980s). Now it's a Sky Arts staple.


We weren't alone in setting up chairs/blankets/picnic regalia. I'd estimate there were at least 20,000 people - fans, tourists, the disinterested - taking up grass space. But aside from the weather (and the odd song), this resolutely was not 1969. Barclaycard's blanket advertising made that abundantly clear, even though their electronic display board constantly flashed up 'British Summer Time', as if to make us feel a little more 'hippie'. Nice try.

And what of the band themselves? Happily, the sound wafted reasonably clearly over the barriers, and at least one screen was quite clear, with the upper portion of three others showing above the fence. The set seemed identical to the one played at Glastonbury (their performance at which I have to say I found mildly disappointing - the two guitarists, IMHO, going through the motions). We did notice Mick donning a flimsy white jacket at one point, but disappointingly its welcome was not overstayed.

I daresay those at Glastonbury saw and heard a different show to the sterile one I experienced on the TV. In the park, the atmosphere and weather definitely made a difference and I spent the entirety of their set on my feet. And another thing in common with 1969 - there was a defiant ramshackleness to their performance, though I'm not sure this was entirely intentional. It was quite sweet when someone was given the order to vacate the tree we had been sheltering under earlier in the day (alas it wasn't high enough to see anymore than we could already, anyway.)

And not forgetting, of course, the inevitable appearance of Mick Taylor, the once very beautiful...

* Photo above posted by Mojoworking on the Afterword blog. His first-hand experience of July 5th 1969 is well worth reading.