There are many good reasons why I won’t go to any annual Rod Stewart arena tours, ticket prices being only one of them.
OK, so ticket prices is the main one.
But there is also this (see above), its not good is it ?
Mr Stewart dressing like my dad used to in his twilight Benidorm years, there once was a time when Mr Stewart would wear his pants slung casually around his hips with the style and panache that a young man can carry off, these days he prefers to tuck his shirt in and pull the pants up around his belly, fastened securely with a nice belt, and just in case anyone is in any doubt that you are now in your dotage and don’t give a fook for fashion any more, he wears his pants in those colours reserved for old men who don’t give a fook any more.
Its a sad sight, and I am allowed to criticise for I was once one of his most faithful followers – every album from his Jeff Beck days through to Body Wishes in ’83, but then the 1980s kicked in hard, the #1 albums stopped and a procession of bland and uninspiring songs followed, his vocal range reduced to one octave and he had to take to the road to pay off numerous tax and alimony bills – his performances now consist mainly of him talking his way through songs whilst relying on fifty five year old once trendy now just podgy women dragging their grand-daughters to an arena, parting with £100 and wetting themselves all over again at the thought of what could have been, sorry love, you’re neither tall, blond, busty or twenty one again.
On the other hand his twin brother, Mike of Mikes Carpets in Leeds (I shall be down there later today for a carpet for Jodies bedroom) still wears it well …
There’s a job waiting for Mr Stewart in Armley, no singing involved.