By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Alice Laussade
By Scott Reitz
But really, the fans now provide the connection--at least for a band like the Stones. Our innate ability to convince ourselves that what we are doing is right has been used for far more evil ends than reinforcing the idea that we're having such fun that an admission price of $75 a head was worthwhile. If folks can do that on the Stones' behalf, the band must have done something right at some point in their career. Nobody cared that the Stones' use of the Dust Brothers on Bridges to Babylon or their stage in the middle of the crowd was a shameless cop from U2; it's probably safe to say that on that night, nobody at the show cared about U2. It was all about the Stones. Perhaps the most striking moment of either show came when the people sitting in the higher Speedway grandstand seats expressed their enthusiasm by drumming their feet on that section's sheet-metal floor. That the deep, dull cacophony--louder than thunder--was called forth by the Stones may have been their most impressive feat.
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