Re: RIP v2 - still no cure for death

48
I first heard this anecdote on the forum (t/w Rolling Stone magazine link), but here's the condensed version:
For all of his low-key skill behind the kit, Watts seemed well aware that he was an irreplaceable element of the Stones’ sound. As one famous story from the band’s heyday goes, Jagger once phoned Watts’ hotel room in the midst of an all-night party, asking, “Where’s my drummer?” Watts reportedly got up, shaved, dressed in a suit, put on a tie and freshly shined shoes, descended the stairs, and punched Jagger in the face, saying, “Don’t ever call me your drummer again. You’re my fucking singer!”
Requiscat.
Gib Opi kein Opium, denn Opium bringt Opi um!

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