Tim Anderson

“The Strip is America’s main street of hype and promotion, where Dick Clark and Phil Spector are acros the-street neighbors, and Tower Records, which bills itself as “the largest record store in the known world,” is the closest thing to a true community center L.A. has.”
― Robert Greenfield, S.t.p.: A Journey Through America With The Rolling Stones

“That week in L.A., a ticket to a Stones’ concert was better than a negotiable bond. You could get anything you needed for it. Seven grams of hash and a twenty-dollar lid was not considered an unreasonable asking price. Nor were offers of fifty dollars and over. With the Stones playing three places in the L. A. area, the Forum, the Long Beach Arena, and the Hollywood Palladium, the Palladium immediately became the hottest ticket, the Panama Red of admission slips. One kid spent a day on the phone looking for a way into the Palladium, making offers, raising and raising the ante with each call until he finally got one ... in exchange for two tickets to Jethro Tull and Led Zeppelin at the Forum and the Grateful Dead at the Hollywood Bowl and twelve new albums. All he had to do then was wait in line outside the Palladium for eight hours and he was home free.”
― Robert Greenfield, S.t.p.: A Journey Through America With The Rolling Stones

“Although these texts were revered, they had not yet become ‘scripture’. People felt free to alter older writings and there was no canon of prescribed sacred books.”
― Karen Armstrong, The Bible: A Biography

“For the Stones were taking a definite chance. Despite the overwhelming ticket demand and the avalanche of media interest in them, they were going on the road with essentially the same kind of show they had done in 1969. What nobody could forecast was how the kids would react to it. The Stones would do a classic rock and roll set, composed of twelve or fifteen separate and distinct numbers, each with a beginning, middle, and an end, starting out hard and fast, calming in the middle, then all-out rocking at the end designed to leave the audience up and dancing when it was over. When the set ended, so did the show. The Stones rarely did encores. They worked like stars . . . come out, hit ‘em hard, zonk ‘em, then run to the limos before the cheering stops, out of the building and on to the plane. Strictly 1966 Beatles-type stuff that made the distance between the musician and the customer unbridgeable. In the spirit of P. T. Barnum, the Stones always left ‘em wanting more. But”
― Robert Greenfield, S.t.p.: A Journey Through America With The Rolling Stones