A FAN’S NOTES
I was born in 1960, the happy accident (for me – most days anyway) of Vatican Roulette. This means that I do not have a memory of living life without the Rolling Stones somewhere within it. Their continued existence is simply mind-boggling; I mean three Ramones are dead, c’mon. My sister had Stones albums naturally but I remember her London Records double A-side 45 of Ruby Tuesday/Let’s Spend the Night Together most. Then things got as weird and scary as the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz: the 1968 war paint promo film of Jumpin’ Jack Flash and the song Sympathy for the Devil – a difficult concept for a repressed Catholic kid. These guys were not your average lovable mop tops, Boo-Boo.