Born To Rock & Roll

8:58 AM:  We’ll be a couple minutes late starting… need to do the coffee thing and find a suitable photo to kick this off right.  Stay tuned!

9:01 AM:  We believe we’ve found a proper header.

9:18 AM:  And we’re off!  OK, the first act at Wembley is apparently Charles & Di.  A bunch of Beefeaters are on stage playing “God Save The Queen” (the wrong one, too).

9:19 AM:  OK, Status Quo is now on playing John Fogerty’s “Rockin’ All Over The World”.  These guys look like the cast of The Full Monty.

9:21 AM:  Were Status Quo the UK equivalent of R.E.O. Speedwagon?  Or were they a misguided attempt to pick up where the Faces left off?  Holy crap, now the front-line is doing that synchronized rocking back & forth thing.  It’s too early for this.

9:25 AM:  Status Quo (last heard being namechecked by Teenage Fanclub -”Says she’s gonna get some records by the Status Quo”) make it seem like punk never happened.  They’re not the British R.E.O, they’re the British Atlanta Rhythm Section.

9:29 AM:  Mr. Weller and the Style Council are making the world safe for Fine Young Cannibals right before our very eyes.  “The Internationals” – this isn’t as bad as their reputation would make you believe.  A little on the hyper side, and that dink banging the tambourine is a little much, but kind of groovy.

9:32 AM:  Paul Weller on stage without a guitar is like Mick Jagger on stage with a guitar – it’s just ridiculously awkward.

9:33 AM:  It’s not too much of a stretch to imagine Joe Strummer watching this live and absolutely pissing himself with laughter.

9:34 AM:  If anybody out there can help us out with a snappy title for this little party we’re having, by all means let us know!  We’re not really awake yet.

9:34 AM:  And it’s Bob Geldof & the Denim Tuxedos!

9:37 AM:  A Boomtown Rat is playing a Steinberger.  Welcome to 1985, folks!

9:38 AM:  “And the lesson today is… HOW TO DIE!” (dramatic pause/accusatory glare)  Subtle, Bob.

9:41 AM:  25 years ago, a teenaged Craig Finn was watching the Rats’ set and taking notes…

9:42 AM:  A half hour in and we’ve already fucked it up – we didn’t get up at 6 AM to kick things off with “Oz Aid”.  Somewhere, Colin Hay is casting a slightly off-kilter glance at us.

9:45 AM:  Nice!  Adam Ant before he went batshit crazy doing “Viva Le Rock” – a great song and as far as we know, the only one ever inspired by t-shirt sported by Sid Vicious:

9:49 AM:  Run for cover, everyone – the Trenchcoat Mafia is here!  Oh wait, it’s just Ultravox.

9:50 AM:  This is positively synth-a-licious.

9:52 AM:  We’d like to give a belated shout-out to Aaron Marshall for covering our paper route on 7/13/85 so we could spend an beautiful afternoon indoors watching people in dodgy clothes play crap music.  Can’t imagine wasting another summer Saturday doing that…

9:53 AM:  So Mr. Ultravox took off his mirrored shades and it turns out he’s actually douchebag actor Bradley Cooper!  Wonderful…

9:55 AM:  Oh wait, Mr. Ultravox is actually Midge Ure, who was in the Rich Kids with ex-Pistol Glen Matlock.  No wonder why they split after one album – this shit is awful.

9:57 AM:  Synth violin solo.  Shades of Revenge Of The Nerds.  This might have to become a drinking game sooner rather than later.

10:00 AM:  Spandau Ballet.  Oh my.  The bongo player with the spiked blonde pageboy/mullet is looking very confident, however.

10:02 AM:  25 years ago, a teenaged P.M. Dawn guy (we’ll call him “P.M. Don”) was watching this and something clicked…

10:04 AM:  This reminds us of when we were in a bookstore in Paddington Station, London, about 10 years ago and Gary Kemp, Spandau singer, was doing a booksigning.  At a train station.  On a Saturday.  It’s safe to say that right now we’re watching the high-water mark of Gary Kemp’s life.

10:08 AM:  Elvis Costello, sporting a beard and what appears to be pale green skin, doing “All You Need Is Love” accompanied by Stratocaster.  Ballsy move getting up in front of 100,000 people (and the whole world watching!) and basically just busking.

10:11 AM:  Elvis the Second doesn’t get enough credit for his voice.  It’s really is pretty fucking great.

10:12 AM:  “Here’s a young British artist who’s had nothing but hits – would you welcome please, Mr. Nik Kershaw!”

10:13 AM:  Kershaw’s drummer has a tom-tom in his kit labeled “Mello Tom”.  Nice.  Man, Nik looks like a chromosomally-damaged John Taylor.

10:15 AM:  We’re cutting corners now – bye bye Nick, hello Sade.  OK – enough of her.  On we go to Sting.

10:16 AM:  “Phil will be joining us in a minute” – Sting puts the world on notice that today belongs to one man and one man only:

10:18 AM:  Jazz Sting really sucks.  Somewhere, Stewart Copeland was flinging empty cans of Bud at his TV set.  While wearing tube socks, no doubt.

10:19 AM:  Sting’s all-black Strat with the maple neck is one sharp instrument.  Mr. The Edge will be out with one shorty.

10:20 AM:  PHIL!  Face it, in 1985, Phil Collins was God.

10:22 AM:  Snappy title, consider yourself found.

10:23 AM:  “Against All Odds” – primo stuff.  Phil just creates instant atmosphere wherever he goes (and as we’ll be seeing, kids, Phil gets around).  He’s a one-man party.

10:26 AM:  Branford Marsalis is clad in white pleated pants and a white oversized t-shirt with “NASSAU” emblazoned across the front in red.  If that’s not what 1985′s all about, then we’re at a loss for words.  We’ll be right back – we have to take our OP shirt out of the dryer…

10:28 AM:  Howard Jones is so coked up that he’s actually playing a real, acoustic, grand piano – that’s not even on a strap.  Oh, and he’s sporting a blonde-to-orange mullet.  He’s got kind of a Dana Carvey-Jeff Healey-George Bush thing going on.  “Little Monkey Eyes” Jones, we’ll call him.

10:32 AM:  The impeccably-dressed Bryan Ferry is a carrier of that weird British gene that makes your face too big for your head.  Roger Waters and the aforementioned Gary “Martin Spandau” Kemp also suffer from the same affliction.  And just like that, normally-proportioned Floydster David Gilmour pops up on guitar.

10:36 AM:  The second Lennon composition of the day, “Jealous Guy”.  Man, Ferry sounds like an Elvis impersonator here.

10:39 AM:  A duel – David Gilmour on the Strat vs. a whistling Bryan Ferry!  Winner?  Us.

10:40 AM:  Paul Young is doing an a capella “Do They Know It’s Christmas”.  This would be so much better if it were punctuated by “orchestra strikes” on the Yamaha DX-7.  (If you don’t know what an “orchestra strike” is, just listen to the Cars’ “Hello Again”, Falco’s “Rock Me Amadeus”, or Paul Young’s own “Tear Your Playhouse Down” – it’s by far the most dramatic of all synth effects).

10:43 AM:  Poor Alison Moyet, also afflicted by Ferry-Waters Disease.

10:45 AM:  Apparently, the only gigs available for black singers in mid-’80s Britain were being Pips to Paul Fucking Young.

10:48 AM:  And Philly is linked up!  MC’d by Jack Nicholson, and Bryan Adams comes out kicking ass.  At least as hard as Bryan Adams can kick ass.  He’s got a Les Paul, at least.  Wait – didn’t the Hooters open up Philly?  Prompting Geldof to ask “Who the fuck are the Hooters?”.  And what about Joan Baez screeching her way into our subconscious and telling the Pepsi Generation that “this is your Woodstock”?  This is like Total Recall or something – they’ve erased the all-important “Aging Boomer” element from our youth – the bastards!

10:55 AM:  Or not, since Bryan is waxing poetic about 1969.  Oh wait – he just changed it to the “Summer of ’85″.  This is just begging for a drinking game.  Or at least for us to start drinking.

10:56 AM:  Speaking of old hippies, Jack doesn’t understand how satellites work.  And we have U2, and Bono still has an Irish accent.  And a lid cast from the image of God himself.

10:59 AM:  Bono clearly does not suffer from Ferry-Waters Syndrome:

That must be crushing his skull.  Meanwhile, U2 is fucking amazing.  “Sunday Bloody Sunday” is killer.  Whoa – apparently this was The Edge’s last public appearance without a hat.

11:02 AM:  Jim Morrison could pull off the leather pants.  Keith Richards could pull off the leather pants.  Bono?  Not so much.  That boy’s got some thighs on him.  Clearly, he wasn’t getting enough cocaine in his diet.  OK, “Bad”.

11:05 AM:  OK, “Bad” at Live Aid is one of the greatest live performances ever recorded.  And that sanctimonious little shit had the chutzpah and the pipes to pull it off, too.  Go Bono!

11:06 AM:  Did we just really type “Go Bono!”?

11:14 AM:  PHIL COLLINS IS AT HEATHROW!  PHIL COLLINS IS AT HEATHROW!  “I’m a lunatic, you know – really”.  Yes you are, Phil.

11:15 AM:  OK, Disc One is over, Phil’s about to get Supersonic, and we need to stretch our legs.  We’ll be back in a minute… but not before a commercial message from the Del Fuegos:

11:27 AM:  We’re back!  With a Brian-led Beach Boys, no less!  My, how “contemporary” they sound.  Brian’s looking a little goofy here, but he’s at least pulling off that blue vest/windbreaker thing with aplomb.  People forget, but he was always a little awkward-looking.

11:30 AM:  Fuck Mike Love.

11:32 AM:  Carl Wilson shouldn’t be dead.  That one’s still brutal, 12 years on.  On a related note, No Al Jardine, No Peace.

11:33 AM:  Check the 30 second mark:  “Hooray for the Beach Boys!”

11:37 AM:  The modern era Beach Boys just aren’t the same without cousin Stamos Wilson in the fold.

11:40 AM:  Bill Graham is on camera – unfortunately, he’s not beating a hippie over the head with a broomhandle.

11:41 AM:  Sting is doing his best Phil Collins imitation by stage-hopping with Dire Straits.  Only problem, Sting, is that you’re still at Wembley when right now Phil is somewhere over Iceland.  Thanks for playing – better luck next time.  And nice Casio watch, you wanker.

11:42 AM:  When we were 13, we redubbed Dire Straits “Limey Rednecks”.  That still cracks us up.

11:44 AM:  We have another Steinberger sighting!

11:45 AM:  Who’s up there?  What’s that?  Hawaiian noises?

11:47 AM:  Sting wants his MTV.  Meanwhile, MTV is tracking Phil’s journey across the Atlantic like Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.  Point: Phil.

11:50 AM:  Mark Knopfler… hell of a guitar player, cool voice, tasty threads (file under: Limey Redneck)… how is it that Dire Straits are just so damn boring?  And no, that sax solo in “Sultans Of Swing” is not swaying our opinion.

11:53 AM:  Loose guitar tally to this point:  3 Gibsons, 2 Telecasters, 2 Steinbergers (what the fuck?), 1 Epiphone, and approx. 87 Stratocasters.  That’s kind of insane.

11:56 AM:  This 4 minute smooth jazz outro to “Sultans” could drive one to drink.  Just sayin’.

12:00 PM:  George Thorogood & Albert Collins playing in front of 95,000 people.  The ’80s were a weird, weird time, folks.

12:02 PM:  Someone tell George he’s not onstage at the Bottle & Cork in lovely Dewey Beach, DE.  This is so Reagan’s America we could puke.

12:05 PM:  And in a 180 degree turn, we now have Queen.  Holy Overbite, Batman!

12:09 PM:  The wife-beater, the studded belt & arm band, the moustache, the Wranglers… that’s all your standard, garden variety gay-biker chic.  Where Freddie really broke some barriers was with that half mic stand.

12:14 PM:  Queen – a rock & roll band or just some sort of weird, hyper-theatrical pastiche?  Discuss.

12:16 PM:  Gotta go with the latter – one great frontman and a truly unique guitarist doth not mitigate all that bombast.

12:20 PM:  Simple Meends are quite bouncy this afternoon.

12:21 PM:  Simple Minds = the Scottish INXS.

12:25 PM:  HEP! HEP! HEP! HEP!  OK, Jim Kerr’s trying really hard but the poor fucker just has zero charisma.  Or melanin, for that matter – the dude’s face is skim-milk blue.  Hard to believe he was married to Chrissie Hynde, too.  God, this is boring.

12:29 PM:  “TVC 15″ – nice!  Screw Ziggy – Bowie was far cooler in the Let’s Dance/”Blue Jean” era.  With one glaring exception, of course:

Even Mick had enough sense to not wear pajamas, for God’s sake.

12:36 PM:  Double-shot!  Bowie’s got Thomas Dolby on keys and a percussionist playing those weird octagonal synth drums.  OK – this HAS to become a drinking game.

12:39 PM:  Bowie has so much style that he can even pull off having about 40 people in his band all dressed up like, well, Ultravox and still make it cool.

12: 42 PM:  Bowie dedicates “Heroes” to “all the children of the world” and manages to not look like an asshole.  This guy was really something, even though when we saw him live in ’95 he was more boring than Clapton (the gold standard of tedium, by the way).  As an aside, Oasis’ cover of “Heroes” trumps all.  Do yourself a favor and look it up.  Noel sings, not Liam.  It’s glorious.

12:46 PM:  OK, even Bowie can’t overshadow his shirtless, ponytailed, pirouetting tambourinist.  Who let the Solid Gold dancer on stage?

12:49 PM:  Ah, spoke too soon.  Here’s Joan Baez.  Good God, is she awful.

12:51 PM:  The Pretenders’ lead guitarist is rocking the Steve Jones’ patented handkerchief hat – nice!  Too bad he’s rocking the wimpiest guitar tone we’ve heard yet.

12:52 PM:  Martin Chambers – a seriously underrated drummer.

12:55 PM:  Chrissie Hynde – by far the biggest bad-ass to take the stage so far…

12:56 PM:  Why do we have a sudden urge to buy a pair of pleated pants and a chorus pedal?

12:57 PM:  OK, we already have both… but they will never, ever be used together.

1:00 PM:  A supremely baked Jack Nicholson is telling the crowd to hide their cameras because the Philly FD is going to spray them down with water.  Because we all know that Kodak Discs aren’t waterproof.

1:01 PM:  The ‘Oo!  Damn… “My Generation” didn’t make the DVD.  Now was that when the satellite cut out or when Pete fell on his ass coming down from a leap?  We shall see…

1:04 PM:  The Who are bringing it.  Love how this was the big reunion after that excruciatingly long wait of 2.5 years since their last show.  Nice Nikes, Pete!

1:06 PM:  Daltrey striking dramatic statuesque poses doesn’t really reach the same level of silliness without the laser show behind him.  It’s just moderately dumb.

1:08 PM:  Kenney Jones really is the best all-around drummer in rock history.  Not our favorite, necessarily, but the most well-rounded.  And Pete busts out the triple windmill as Roger comes in early and the trainwreck ensues!  “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, ironically.

1:12 PM:  Daltrey’s marching in place!

1:13 PM:  And Pete remains on his feet.  He must’ve wiped out during “Pinball Wizard”.  Anyone remember?

1:15 PM:  We got fooled again!  Pete bails during the coda!  Looks like he went to kick the mic stand and BOOM!  On his ass!  Roger then fell to the floor in solidarity.  Didn’t quite work, there, Rog.

1:16 PM:  Chevy Chase: “Mr. Footloose – Kenny Loggins!”  Hello, 1985.

1:20 PM:  All the lame Yacht Rock hipster-bullshit-irony in the world can’t justify Loggins’ existence.  He sucks, he’s always sucked, and he always will suck.

1:21 PM:  And the Greatest Accent of the Day award goes to Billy Connolly.

1:24 PM:  Whoa – it’s full-on coked-out, pasty, pudgy, married-to-a-woman, suicidal-era Elton!  Dude, tell your backing singers to put some pants on, for Christ’s sakes.  Wow – Elton has no voice whatsoever – he sounds like shit.  Fortunately, he’s wearing a fez.

1:28 PM:  Lookin’ good, Reg!

1:30 PM:  And Elton introduces his whole fucking band – all 17 of ‘em.  Oh, look, it’s Kikki Dee.  Yup.  As tedious as this is now, it had to have been worse a quarter century ago, right?

1:33 PM:  OK, in the spirit of full-disclosure, “Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart” may have been our favorite song when we were 5.  Doesn’t really hold up, though, unlike Meco’s disco Star Wars theme.

1:36 PM:  Oh shit – George Michael AND Andrew Ridgeley.  Back when Andrew was still George’s caddy.  So wait… they’re doing “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me”… George is singing, Elton’s on the piano, and Ridgeley is nowhere to be seen.  Was he escorted on and then right off stage?  The irony is, Ridgeley became a race car driver and George keeps on getting baked and driving in to parked cars and buildings and such.  You’d think they could work out some sort of arrangement.

1:40 PM:  Spoke too soon – Ridgeley has been spotted in exile, sharing a mic with Kikki Dee.  Ouch.

1:42 PM:  We’ve got a phoner with Phil on the Concorde!  And you can’t understand a fucking word!  Love the stock footage of the plane in flight – we totally thought this was real in ’85.

1:44 PM:  End of Disc 2.  We’re gonna fortify ourselves – back in a few!

2:00 PM:  The rest of this Live Blog is proudly sponsored by Miller Lite.  So… Bette Midler comes on stage and people go nuts.  I believe she co-hosted the first MTV awards, as well.  So Bette Midler had a fleeting moment of something approaching coolness.  Who knew?

2:05 PM:  In 1985, R.E.O. Speedwagon was higher on the bill than Madonna.  That’s just bizarre.

2:13 PM:  The crowd appears to be chanting “Lose that dress!” to Madonna.   Oh, and the DVD is out of order – Madonna did indeed trump R.E.O.  Meanwhile, let’s pour a little out for the guys who didn’t make the DVD release:  Rick Springfield, the Four Tops, Ashford & Simpson, Bo Diddley (with Thorogood), Santana, the Hooters, and some chief named Bernard Watson, who apparently opened the show.  This little paragraph is your Live Aid legacy, dudes – enjoy it.

2:16 PM:  So they cut out Madonna’s famous declaration of “I ain’t taking shit off today”.  Bummer.  But it was nice seeing Madonna sing before backing tracks and lip-synching and autotune entered the scene.  Even though she was a little… pitchy.  Anyway, back to Wembley for some Freddie Mercury/Brian May acoustic number, which really sucks.  But we’re leaving it on to give us a chance to eat our lunch.

2:22 PM:  Oh, hello Paul.  Strangely, his hair was grayer then than it is now.  Doesn’t “Let It Be” kind of go against the point of this whole shebang?  Oh look, here comes the chorus of Townshend, Geldof, Bowie… and Moyet.  What a trainwreck.

2:37 PM:  Geldof: “Let’s cock it up together”.  And “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” with some ear-bleeding synth.  “Well tonight thank God it’s them, instead of you!”  Nice, Bono.  Meanwhile, Elton’s trying to push his way towards a mic…

2:40 PM:  Bono keeps preaching that “Springtime is coming”.  He’s louder than everyone else, too.  And so the Messiah was born…

2:41 PM:  Back to Philly for the duration, with Sonny Crockett introducing Petty.  And Petty just flipped off the camera!  He’s sporting some Duane Allman-worty sideburns, too.  Nice to see Mike Campbell back before he melted.  Campbell is the Kenney Jones of guitarists.

2:45 PM:  Petty looked especially strange that day, kind of like a mummified Roger McGuinn.

Aw, fuck – they edited out “Rebels”, our favorite Petty song.  Meanwhile, Petty keeps laughing at someone in the front row.  There’s an obnoxious horn section and a backing singer dancing like that blue chick in Jabba’s Palace.    Whoops – there goes Petty’s shades.  Man, is that guy stoned!  He practically looks Asian!  And the late Howie Epstein is rocking the Vuarnets.  Yup – 1985, ladies & gentlemen!

2:50 PM:  Fat Ozzy is out Elton-ing Elton!  Sabbath kind of sounds like shit, though.  Then again, they’re boring on their best days…

2:52 PM:  Ozzy and his Technicolor Dreamcoat are giving off a serious Chris Farley vibe here.

2:55 PM:  Chevy Chase’s introduction of the next act (read off of notecards, no less):  “This next band had a number one single with ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling’.  I know Kevin Cronin, the lead singer.  Ladies & gentlemen, R.E.O. Speedwagon.”

2:57 PM:  Kevin Cronin has testicles the size of grapes.  The crazy guy singing “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” on the stoop across the street is better than these dinks.  Wow – Cronin looks like they took all those goofy bastards in Badfinger and combined them to create the uber-wanker before us right now.  Oh, and he’s playing an Ovation acoustic.  We can’t fight this feeling anymore – next!

3:00 PM:  CSN.  Crosby can’t figure out how to put on his guitar.  Good times!

3:02 PM:  The camera isn’t going near the now-guitarless Crosby.  Oh wait – there he is.  That’s not a pretty sight.  Like a walrus on crack.

3:05 PM:  OK, Judas Priest rocks.  Ironically, Rob Halford is one of the straighter-looking dudes to have graced our television today.

3:07 PM:  Is that screeching sound feedback, Halford, Halford’s falsetto causing feedback, or all of the above?

3:10 PM:  It really sucks that Ben Orr’s dead, because a Cars reunion would be wonderful.

3:12 PM:  Elliot Easton – purveyor of tasty guitar solos.  Greg Hawkes – owner of dyed red rattails.  Yikes – when Ocasek isn’t even the weirdest-looking dude in his own band, you know you’ve stumbled upon that special formula.

3:14 PM:  “Heartbeat City”… nope, we’re not really feeling this one, guys.  Sorry.  Next!

3:15 PM:  Oh great.  Neil Young solo acoustic.  How uplifting.  Nobody gives a fuck about your friends who OD’d, you dour fucking hippie.  NEXT!

3:16 PM:  Neil goes country.  It’s amazing how someone can make such great music yet can also churn out hackneyed shit like this.  You pious, boring, humorless, pretentious Canuck.  Next!

3:17 PM:  Yes, we just skipped over Neil Young to get to the Thompson Twins with Madonna & Steve Stevens doing “Revolution”.  This is awful.  Still not as bad as Neil, though.  Fuck – another Steinberger!

3:20 PM:  This is quite possibly the worst musical performance we’ve ever heard.  It’s kind of amazing.  Nobody knows the song, Steve Stevens is making Atari sounds with his whammy bar, Madonna is distracting every guy on the stage just by being Madonna, that weird blonde chick is screeching like a dolphin, and Tom Bailey (the singer – I think that’s his name) is a tuneless prat who doesn’t know the words.  This is absolutely disastrous.

3:23 PM:  Oh, bummer – Power Station didn’t make the cut.  What a shocker that was – Robert Palmer replaced by the atrocious Michael Des Barres, prompting 2 billion people to simultaneously ask,”Who the fuck is Michael Des Barres?”  Meanwhile, Palmer’s dead and Des Barres is still kicking, so apparently he’s having the last laugh.

3:25 PM:  LOOK WHO’S DRUMMING FOR CLAPTON!  Phil Fucking Collins, that’s who – he made it safely!  Everybody exhale.  And Duck Dunn on bass, no less – nice.

3:28 PM:  You gotta wonder the look Clapton’s lead guitarist gets when someone asks him what he does for a living:  “I’m Eric Clapton’s lead guitarist.”  “Excuse me?”   Meanwhile, E.C. unleashes the wah-wah on “White Room”.  He’s a dick, but he really can play like a mofo.

3:34 PM:  Like a mofo in a Michelob ad, we mean.  “She’s Waiting” – not a highlight of his catalogue.

3:35 PM:  Holy crap, Nicky Hopkins on piano!  The “Session Man” himself!

3:42 PM:  OK, Clapton brought it.

3:45 PM:  Jack & Bette are out to introduce the almighty PHIL.  Jack looks like a refugee from a Dean Martin celebrity roast.  How is he even standing right now?

3:46 PM:  “I was in England this afternoon” – you cheeky bastard.

3:48 PM:  Here’s Max Headroom pitching New Coke.  Just because.

3:51 PM:  Phil is still feeling it coming in the air tonight.  Jesus…

3:54 PM:  And Phil not only introduces Zeppelin, he’s filling in for Bonzo!  Along with Tony Thompson, of course.

3:55 PM:  Wow – look at Percy before he caught Ferry-Waters disease.  And look at Jimmy Page – he’s wasted!  The ol’ heroin-for-booze swap doesn’t come without a price.  My God, JFK Stadium is going absolutely batshit.  If only we had the MTV feed with Mark Goodman’s famous “…and they’re doing ‘Stairway’” voice-over.

3:57 PM:  We got the Goodman feed – sweet.

4:00 PM:  “Jimmy, darling, you left the flanger on again.”  Page is beyond sloppy and Plant appears to be going through puberty on stage.  This is gloriously awful.

4:03 PM:  Nina Blackwood has a wedgie.

4:05 PM:  We’ve seen the Stones about 17 times and not once has Ronnie Wood even approached the level of drunk that Jimmy Page is here.  Holy crap – he’s barely standing.

4:11 PM:  Does Percy “remember laughter”?

4:14 PM:  YES HE DOES!

4:18 PM:  How the fuck do you follow Led Zeppelin in a football stadium in the summer?  Jesus… that was pretty nuts.

4:19 PM:  By having Fletch introduce Duran Duran, of course.  OK, maybe not.  They cut “View To A Kill” which featured Simon LeBon hitting the all-time worst note in rock history.  So this was the last show with the original line-up… Andy Taylor’s already gone completely metal – it rules.

4:25 PM:  Ah, “Save A Prayer” – instant atmosphere.  So, where can you find more white powder on this stage – on Nick Rhodes’ face or in the band’s sinus cavities?

4:26 PM:  Wow – Simon really couldn’t sing, could he.

4:27 PM:  These guys are all serious candidates for rehab – Jesus.  Either bloated (Simon) or cadaverous (the rest of ‘em).  OK – the Double D doesn’t really translate to the stage.  Moving on…

4:29 PM:  Patti LaBelle did something historical to her lid.  Now she’s talking about Lennon.  Now she’s singing “Imagine” (is that the 4th Lennon song so far?  “Jealous Guy”, “All You Need Is Love”, “Revolution”… are we missing any others?  Can we even count to 4 at this point?).  OK – nobody needs to sit through this shit.  Next!

4:32 PM:  OK – she’s a bizarre singer.  Kind of mutilating Dylan’s “Forever Young”.  Not that Bob isn’t prone to that himself, but that’s not the point.  NEXT!  Ooh – end of Disc 3.  Time for a beer.

4:36 PM:  Philly homeboys Hall & Oates.  Darryl’s mulleted, Oates is mustachioed, G.E. Smith is annoying, and T-Bone Wolk is still alive.  Not much more to say about this.

4:40 PM:  Looks like they dragged David Ruffin out of the crack house!  And the late Eddie Kendricks, who we once served water too.  He weighs about 80 lbs – still sounds great, though.  Look at Hall & Oates doing synchronized dance moves.  Or don’t, if you can help it.  Man, Ruffin still sounds like God himself.  Still sporting the Urkel glasses.  And still being a stage hog.  It’s like a VH-1 movie come to life!

4:42 PM:  So Oates is 5’3″.  Hmmm.

4:43 PM:  This Temps tribute/review is actually really tight.  Oooh – love the Otis/Stax horn arrangements on “My Girl”.  Well done.  But things are about to take a turn for the Mick, aren’t they.

4:44 PM:  Mick’s solo debut.  Quite the ensemble he’s sporting, too.  Billowing yellow shirt, royal blue t-shirt, tasteful gray pleated slacks, flowing mullet.  OK – in all honestly, even playing “Just Another Night” backed by Hall & Oates, he completely fucking outclasses everyone else we’ve seen today.

4:47 PM:  And Grace Slick is dressed like the cover of Synchronicity and completely enraptured by The Mick.  My, we’ve come a long way from Altamont, haven’t we!

4:49 PM:  The crowd is going more nuts than they were for Zeppelin.  Wow.  And now it’s into “Miss You”.  Keith is plotting murder backstage…

4:50 PM:  This is way too slick.  Very foreboding of things to come for his other band…

4:52 PM:  Oates dancing behind Mick – “Whatsamatta wichoo, boy?”

4:53 PM:  So G.E. Smith is playing a Rickenbacker on “Miss You” – ballsy move or faux pas?  You decide.

4:55 PM:  “Tang yew!  Awrah – where’s Tina?”  Mickese might be the greatest dialect of all.  Imagine if Mick tore off her wig instead of her skirt?

4:56 PM:  OK, “State of Shock” – this is pretty gay.

4:57 PM:  Into “It’s Only Rock & Roll”, medley-style.  Mick is now shirtless.  Two fortysomethings are dry humping in front of 2 billion people.  This is just bizarre.

4:59 PM:  Mick is now wearing spandex pants and what looks to be Bill Wyman’s canary suit jacket from the ’81 tour.  A costume change during the end of the last song?  You’re better than that, Mick.

5:01 PM:  Jack’s intro for Bob is classic – “transcendent”, even.  And here comes the shitshow!

5:04 PM:  Mick, consider yourself upstaged.  Let’s see… Ronnie’s messing up his hair, Keith & Bob apparently did each other’s make-up… whoa – straight into “Blowin’ In The Wind”?  Looks like the first three songs didn’t make the cut.  Like when Bob breaks a string and Ronnie gives Bob his guitar and then proceeds to mime for two minutes.  And we’re all the richer for it.  What the fuck am I even talking about?  Bring Lionel out and let’s get this shit over with.

5:06 PM:  So, after an inaudible Keith solo, Ronnie does the famous guitar swap after all.  We misremembered the whole thing.  Our brain hurts.  And it just goes on and on and on…

5:07 PM:  Having a hootenanny in front of a hundred thousand people?  Not a good idea.

5:07 PM:  And Keith buries his face on Lionel’s linen padded shoulder out of sheer embarrassment.

5:08 PM: 

5:09 PM:  After 12 hours in the sun, who do the kids want?  Sheena Easton, Dionne Warwick and Harry Belafonte!

5:11 PM:  Never thought we’d ever see Nick Rhodes, Timothy Hutton, and Peter, Paul & Mary share the same stage.  Was this all a mass hallucination?  Seriously – what the fuck is going on here?

5:12 PM:  And where the hell is Phil?  Best guess?  Holed up backstage with Page in front of a tabeltop full of blow, Scarface-style.

5:15 PM:  OK – this needs to stop now.  This has been an… experience.  Thanks for reading, everyone!  Glad we could take one for the team and spare you the horror!

Hello there.

That’s right – we’re going to be doing some serious viewing this weekend:  Live Aid in its entirety (or at least as much as we can get our hands on).  We’ve got the DVD box set, You Tube, an entire day to kill, and this time around we’re old enough to drink.

Sure, it’ll be a test of both your patience and our endurance… but it should also make for a damn good time.

So stop by and cut loose with us, won’t you?