A close legend

I went with low expectations. Much lower than it probably should be when it comes to Ronnie Wood. Perhaps because, at 79 years old, one expected a concert sustained more by the weight of the legend than by a true need to get on stage. Perhaps because his solo career has never had the dimension of his adventures with Faces either The Rolling Stones. But Ron Wood and his band gave an unexpected lesson in rock and roll in Razzmatazz. Plain and simple. One of those nights in which a legend stops being a museum figure and once again seems like a musician.

The format helped. Seeing a Rolling Stone in a room, far from the stadiums and all the machinery that accompanies the group, was something of a privilege (and the price of the tickets, of course, too). But the best thing was to see that Wood did not go to Barcelona to manage his assets. He went out to play. And he played a lot, a lot and well, and with an infectious energy. He was the first to attack, to look for his musicians and to enjoy a band that sounded compact and uninhibited. The repertoire functioned as a journey through several lives. The Stones were present from the start with the long-awaited, since they have been doing it for a long time, “It’s Only Rock’n’Roll”, but the big surprise was seeing to what extent the concert breathed the spirit of Faces. “Ooh La La”, already in the final part of the concert, stirred memories and confirmed that some songs retain their ability to stop time intact. “Flying” and, of course, “Stay With Me” also appeared, becoming, as a culmination, one of the great moments of the night.

Personally, hearing “Seven Days” live was one of those small gifts that justifies a ticket on its own. The song of my beloved Bob Dylan, recovered by Wood in 1979 for his “Gimme Some Neck”acquired a special dimension in the room. Rue. Rocky. Touched to the limit. Because it was not a concert of great speeches or programmed nostalgia. It was, simply, a succession of songs played with enthusiasm. And that doesn’t always happen like that. Some, in networks, insist on the refrain of “the only thing missing, with what the entrance fee was worth.” Well, I insist, this is not always the case, because the price of a ticket is not a guarantee of anything.

There was blues, rock and roll and a lot of room for improvisation. A ramshackle “Dust My Broom” by Elmore James, “Spoonful” by Willie Dixon, and “Hey Negrita” or “You Hear Me Knocking” by the Stones themselves kept the pulse high. “Country Honk,” that country version of “Honky Tonk Women,” was also especially effective, with Razzmatazz converted for a few minutes into an improbable country-rock party. Wood showed that his playing still has that scruffy and dangerous edge that he has never lost. And we like it.

Imelda May, announced as a guest artist, provided personality and a formidable voice, although there was the feeling that she could have had even more prominence at times. Their interventions were excellent, although perhaps Chanel Hayes beat them to the punch, more than just a backup singer, and who with Ike & Tina Turner’s “River Deep, Mountain High” allowed the band to reach one of its peaks of intensity.

But that night the king was Ron Wood. And he acted as such without the need to impose anything. Smiling, close, magnificent on the guitar and, above all, happy. That was perhaps the most surprising thing. I went with low expectations and left Razzmatazz convinced that I had attended something much better than expected. Not to a tribute to Ronnie Wood. But to an authentic rock and roll concert by Ronnie Wood. Which are not exactly the same.