Trying to cajole dissipating old farts into retirement is as tired a chore as they are; rockers, like athletes and whores, know not when to play their final encore, deaf as they are from years of prolonged applause. So let them play on and on and on and on; there's plenty of back catalog to occupy the rest of us as they satisfy their urges to remain relevant, if not utterly redundant. Besides, there's always a Jann Wenner out there willing to chug a little rock-star cock for five stars to convince the wary and cynical the new Mick J.'s worth the 20 bucks. So let the old men play in their velvet sandboxes whilst gulping their Geritol-and-Cristal cocktails; little chance of them gracefully riding off into the sunset, so let them do their thing.... More >>>