Above, deliberately low-res pic by guest photographer © 1972 Kurt Ingham. All Rights Reserved. The Rolling Stones in all their 1972 majesty and glory. He also photographed their live show in 1970, and considered this shot a second cut but shown here of necessity, since the first cut was incinerated when his Lotus Elite self-combusted (as fiberglas cars were wont to do) while he was driving it back from Santa Barbara CA.
They say one never is supposed to admit any failings whatsover in the endless parade of self-promotion in our entertainment world, so be as suspect as you wish. To me it's another anecdote in what Inspector Clouseau termed "life's rich pageant," spouted while his character fell off a mansion's balcony into a fountain below, which strangely enough suits my metaphor here. (And yes, R.E.M. got the joke too, naming an album same.)
Three days ago I gave a scoop from a colleague in film media to a friend who edits two online music magazines that the Rolling Stones were going to play a secret warmup club gig for their impending 2015 tour on May 20, 2015 at the Fonda Theatre, Hollywood CA. The Stones' precedent was a similar warmup gig at the smallish Echoplex here two years ago. She rightly corroborated this info with another source unknown to me, and printed the tip at once. Her magazine sites immediately got one million hits. Grateful, she graciously arranged for me to be the photographer of this gig for a major music trade.
The previous Echoplex gig had launched a lottery for inordinately lucky fans to see the Stones in a uniquely small setting for all of twenty bucks, 2013 dollars, and had welcomed select press and press photographers. This time around, speculation pegged the gig mainly for celebrity guests, and it was announced that they would allow only a single pool photographer to supply all press visuals, and it would be the person described online as "the world's preeminent entertainment photographer," Kevin Mazur. So no go for this photojournalist: I won the battle but lost the crown.
Trying not to sound like a hopping mad Yosemite Sam, thus I vent. They say karma is a bitch, but who knew it considered me to be one!
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