By early 1963, the Station Hotel in London had become an epicenter of the burgeoning British blues scene. On a blustery, snowy night that February, the Rolling Stones’ classic early lineup took the stage for one of the first times, dazzling the audience with ferocious renditions of blues standards like Muddy Waters’ “I Want to Be Loved” and Jimmy Reed’s “Bright Lights, Big City.”
Multi-instrumentalist Brian Jones, the band’s founder and leader, synchronized guitars with Keith Richards, who favored a distinctive slashing and stinging style. Drummer Charlie Watts, the group’s newest member, a jazz aficionado and an accomplished percussionist, propelled the music forward with a rock-solid beat.
Anchoring the rhythm section with him was bassist Bill Wyman, who was recruited more for his spare VOX AC30 amp that the guitarists could plug into than for his musical skills. The stoic bassist proved a strong and innovative player. Together, he and Watts would go on to form one of rock’s most decorated rhythm sections.
Ian Stewart’s energetic boogie-woogie piano style rounded out the sound. Months later, manager Andrew Loog Oldham kicked him out of the band for being “ugly,” although Stewart continued to record, tour and serve as the band’s road manager until his death in 1985.
This April 8, 1964, file photo shows the Rolling Stones during a rehearsal. The members, from left, are Brian Jones, guitar; Bill Wyman, bass; Charlie Watts, drums; Mick Jagger, vocals; and Keith Richards, guitar.
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(Associated Press)
Fronting the group was Mick Jagger. Channeling the music like a crazed shaman, Jagger shimmied and sashayed, owning the stage like few lead singers have before or since. By the end of the night, the Stones had the crowd in a frenzy. Although only 30 people had made it to the gig because of the treacherous weather conditions, the hotel’s booker had seen enough: He offered the Stones a regular gig.
“The Rolling Stones had caught fire. The music they were playing and the way they played it struck a chord with a young crowd starved for something different, something their own… It was soul-stirring, loud and uncompromising,” writes Bob Spitz in “The Rolling Stones: The Biography,” his magisterial work that charts the 60-year journey of “the greatest rock and roll band in the world.”
Spitz, the author of strong biographies on the Beatles and Led Zeppelin, as well as Ronald Reagan and Julia Child, captures the drama, trauma and betrayals that have kept the Stones in the public’s consciousness for more than six decades. It’s all here: The Stones’ evolution from a blues cover band to artistic rival of the Beatles; the musical peaks — “Aftermath,” “Let It Bleed” and “Exile on Main Street” as well as misfires like “Dirty Work”; Keith’s descent into a debilitating heroin addiction that nearly destroyed him and the band; the death of the ‘60s at the ill-fated Altamont free concert; Marianne Faithfull, Anita Pallenberg, Bianca Jagger, Jerry Hall and other lovers, partners and muses; the breakups, makeups and crackups; and perhaps most important, the unbreakable bond between Jagger and Richards at the center of it all.
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Although Spitz unearths little new information, he excels at presenting the Stones in glorious Technicolor. Spitz homes in on the telling details and anecdotes that give the band’s story a deep richness and poignancy.
Take “Satisfaction,” the Stones’ 1965 classic and first U.S. chart topper. The oft-told story is that Richards woke up in the middle of the night, grabbed the guitar that was next to his bed, and recorded the iconic riff and the phrase “I can’t get no … satisfaction” on a cassette recorder in his Clearwater, Fla., hotel room before falling back asleep. But as Spitz notes, the song initially went nowhere in the studio. That is until Stewart purchased a fuzz box for Richards a few days later, which gave the tune a raunchier sound that perfectly matched Jagger’s lyrics of frustration and alienation. A classic was born.
Piercing the Stones mythology
Spitz’s deep reporting often pierces the mythology surrounding the band. Contrary to the popular belief of many fans, for instance, Jones bears much of the responsibility for the rift with his bandmates and his tragic demise.
The most musically adventurous member of the group — he plays sitar on “Paint It Black” and dulcimer on “Lady Jane” — Jones wasn’t a songwriter. That stoked his jealousies and insecurities, along with frontman Jagger stealing the spotlight from him. A monster of a man, Jones impregnated multiple teenage girls and physically and emotionally abused several women, including Pallenberg. Perhaps that’s why she left him for Richards. Over time, Jones made fewer contributions in the studio and onstage, becoming a catatonic drug casualty. The Stones fired Jones in June 1969 but would have been justified doing so a couple years earlier. He drowned in his pool less than a month later.
Author Bob Spitz
(Elena Seibert)
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Similarly, Stones lore has long romanticized the making of “Exile on Main Street” in the stifling, dingy basement of Richards’ rented Villa Nellcôte in the South of France, where the Stones had decamped to avoid British taxes. In this telling, Richards, deep in the throes of heroin addiction, somehow managed to come up with one indelible riff after another built around his signature open G tuning — taught to him by Ry Cooder — leading the band to create one of the best albums in rock history. That’s not entirely accurate, according to Spitz.
Yes, Richards came up with the licks for “Rocks Off,” “Happy” and “Tumbling Dice.” But it’s equally true that a strung-out Richards missed myriad recording sessions, invited dealers, hangers-on and other distractions to Nellcôte, and repeatedly failed to turn up to write with Jagger. Far from completing the album in the druggy haze of a French basement, the band spent six months on overdubs at Sunset Sound in Los Angeles, where Jagger contributed many of his vocals.
Beatles vs. Stones
One of the more interesting themes Spitz develops is the symbiotic relationship between the Beatles and Stones, with the Fab Four mostly overshadowing them — until they didn’t.
John Lennon and Paul McCartney wrote “I Wanna Be Your Man” and gave it to the Stones, whose 1963 rendition, with Jones on slide guitar, became the group’s first UK Top 20 hit. The Lennon-McCartney songwriting partnership inspired Jagger and Richards to begin penning their own songs. In early 1964, the Beatles came to the U.S. for the first time, making television history with their appearance on “The Ed Sullivan Show” and playing Carnegie Hall. A few months later, the Stones kicked off their inaugural American tour at the Swing Auditorium in San Bernardino. In 1967, the Beatles released “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band,” a psychedelic masterpiece. The Stones responded with “Their Satanic Majesties Request,” a psychedelic mess.
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The Rolling Stones: The Biography cover
As the Beatles began to splinter, Spitz writes, the Stones sharpened their focus. The band released “Beggars Banquet” in late 1968 and “Let It Bleed” the following year, albums every bit as innovative and visionary as “The White Album” and “Abbey Road.” For the first time, the two groups stood as equals.
When the Beatles broke up in 1970, the Stones kept rolling. With Jones replaced by virtuoso guitarist Mick Taylor — whose fluid, melodic style served as a tasty foil to Richards — they produced what many consider their finest works, “Sticky Fingers” and “Exile on Main Street.” More impressively, the band, with Taylor’s successor, Ronnie Wood, has continued to dazzle audiences with incendiary live shows, touring as recently as 2024 behind the late-career triumph “Hackney Diamonds.” The Beatles, by contrast, retired from the road in 1966 and devoted their energies to the studio.
Hundreds of books have been written about the Rolling Stones, but few sparkle quite like Spitz’s. For anyone who loves or even likes the Stones, it’s indispensable.
Like most of the band’s biographers, Spitz gives short shrift to the post-“Exile” period after 1972. He curtly dismisses 2005’s strong “A Bigger Bang” and 2016’s “Blue & Lonesome,” a back-to-basics album of blues covers, as “adequate endeavors that signaled a band living on borrowed time.” That critique is both off target and under-developed. Spitz ignores the band’s legendary live album, “Brussels Affair,” recorded in 1973, or why the band waited decades before officially releasing it.
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These are small quibbles. Spitz has written a book worthy of its 704-page length; another 50 or so pages covering the later years would have made it even stronger. To quote the Rolling Stones: “I know it’s only rock ‘n roll, but I like it, like it, yes, I do.”
Marc Ballon, a former Times, Forbes and Inc. Magazine reporter, teaches an advanced writing class at USC. He lives in Fullerton.
The concept behind Given Names(Prénoms) is so simple that it’s hard to believe no one has ever done it before. Filmmaker Nurith Aviv showed up at the apartment of various friends of her with a bunch of flowers, and then listened to the friend talk about their first, or given, name. That’s it! It’s the kind of discussion that happens often in real life – just listen to any group of new mothers justify their choices, or any teenager sulk about what this label for their identity means to them – but it’s not often such a chat is captured on film.
It doesn’t work flawlessly, of course: at the BerlinaleMs. Aviv made it clear the movie was originally designed as a kind of art installation, and more reviews than were included were filmed. The opening of the film is also more of a tribute to the late French filmmaker AgnèsVarda, who Ms. Aviv had worked with. (Mr. Varda’s original given name was actually Arlette, changed by her when she was a teenager.) But once we are into the direct interviews this hiccup is immediately forgotten as we get a window on some really interesting cultures and how their given names have shaped these very interesting lives.
You learn so much about someone while knowing so little of them, just from the simple story of their name. One of the interviewees was born in secrecy during the Holocaust, left on the doorstep of a Polish family by his Jewish parents where he spent the first years of his life under the name of a dead child of the Polish family. Once he was reclaimed by his parents they did not really change his name, but moving to France and beginning a new life in a new language changed it for him. Other interviewees had parents from different cultures and gave their child a name that with different connotations in each culture. It’s fascinating to hear these considerations be discussed but also how the owner of this name felt about it. One woman has a stutter, so mentions how pleased she is to have a name she can pronounce. She also has a very ordinary name from her birth culture (the Turkish name Zeynep), because her mother had a embarrassing first name that her own parents made up, and was therefore adamant her own children would not have the same problem. Some people have had different names through different stages of their lives, while others have had names for different purposes. Some have had the same name the whole way through and never liked it, others like their name so much they write poems about it. There’s a whole spectrum of humanity and history on display here through just one simple question.
The interviews were clearly rehearsed but they were not a dialogue. Instead Ms. Aviv filmed them talking directly to the camera, sharing these intimate details about this gift they were given and how that’s affected them like we’re chatting over a coffee. All the interviews were conducted in Paris and in the French language, but even amongst that there’s a global reach among the people here that is both very ordinary and highly unusual. Some people have received prejudicial treatment based on their names while others have had no problem at all. In France names are taken seriously for an additional reason: the spelling of names is legally standardised. Some people are pleased by the simplicity, while other people (or their parents) rebel. A cultural side effect is that it’s therefore not unusual for the name on your birth certificate to be used only in government contexts, while your true name is used everywhere else.
American audiences find such interference laughable, of course, but in other ways American discourse around baby names has shaped the way people around the world think about their choices. Just think how ordinary names like Luna or Lea, Liam or Luca are in preschools around the world right now. These short, easy-to-spell names travel across different cultures in ways which names like that of this movie’s editors, Nurith and Hippolyte, might not. Given Names is a fascination exploration of a cultural issue we more normally take for granted, and I am not just saying that because one of the interviewees is also named Sarah. Our given names are who we are but also who our parents thought we might be, and that’s not necessarily who we become. Hearing people discuss their feelings about this is entrancing indeed.
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Given Names (Prénoms) recently played at the Berlin International Film Festival.
Learn more about the film at the IMDB site for the title.
NBCUniversal has ordered a TV adaptation of the popular New York Times puzzle Wordle that will be hosted by Savannah Guthrie.
Jimmy Fallon, whose company is co-producing the show, and Guthrie announced the series pick-up Monday on NBC’s “Today.” “Wordle” will begin production later this year and debut on NBC in 2027.
Guthrie filmed the pilot episode for Wordle last fall in Manchester, England, where the series will be made as well. The project from Universal Television Alternative Studio, Fallon’s Electric Hot Dog and The New York Times, has been in development for two and a half years.
Guthrie said she learned the show was picked up in February and was set to shoot episodes in March. But producers delayed the start as Guthrie went on a hiatus for two months after the disappearance of her mother Nancy.
“They just stopped everything and said, ‘we will wait for you, of course,’” Guthrie said. “And Hollywood is a really tough business as you know, and I didn’t expect that.”
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Guthrie returned to “Today” on April 6. Law enforcement officials believe Nancy Guthrie was taken against her will from her Catalina Foothills home on Jan. 31. The investigation into her abduction is ongoing.
Guthrie did not mention the situation with her mother’s abduction, but indicated her game show duties will be another step toward normalcy. “I’m just determined to put one foot in front of the other,” she told colleagues.
Wordle asks players to guess a five-letter word in six chances through a process of eliminating letters. An individual player’s performance in the game can be posted online without revealing the answer, as the colored tiles are shown without the letters.
Offered as part of a subscription to a bundle of puzzles on the New York Times web site and app, Wordle has been a major driver of digital revenue for the company. The New York Times said earlier this year that users solved the Wordle puzzle 4.4 billion times in 2025.
Wordle was created by Brooklyn, N.Y.-based software engineer Josh Wardle in 2021. After it became an immediate hit online, the New York Times purchased it for a price reported to be in the low-seven-figure range.
The first half of Gabriel Mascaro’s latest movie, The Blue Trail, is filled with immense sadness. It imagines a dystopian Brazil in which its fascist government built colonies for elderly people to live in and forces them to relocate, despite the fact that many of them are still able to contribute to society. One of those people is Tereza (Denise Weinberg), who has recently learned that the government has lowered the age threshold from 80 to 75, in an attempt to relocate more elderly citizens to spend the rest of their lives in.
Of course, still able-bodied and wanting to continue her daily routine, Tereza rejects the government’s interventions and leaves her home, determined to fulfill a lifelong dream: to fly in a plane. Throughout her journey, she meets a bevy of colorful individuals, including ship captain Cadu (Rodrigo Santoro), who takes her deep into the Amazon and literally opens her eyes to things she never saw in her plane of existence.
Describing the viewing experience one takes in trusting Mascaro’s vision is a little difficult. The Blue Trail offers a clear-eyed view of how the filmmaker believes society treats elderly individuals, even though they will reach that age at some point. Mandatory diapers on bus rides. Colonies for them to live and never be allowed to contribute to society. The fact that they think little of them and believe they’re disposable, without understanding their impact on the world, says so much about how governments around the world have constantly mistreated them and continue to fail to truly care for their well-being.
Watching Tereza being forced to wear a diaper before boarding a bus, one feels the filmmaker’s frustration in their eyes. In that moment, the protagonist feels helpless. All she wants is to return home and, hopefully, fly. Since she isn’t allowed to go anywhere, her only shot at adventure is a boat ride. These sections see Mascaro’s filmmaking at its most visually audacious, with painterly tableaux that recall the staggering grandeur of Werner Herzog’s Fitzcarraldo. There’s something so majestic when seeing a camera float in the water, as if it acts as the boat itself, as the captain and Tereza explore the Amazon. The feeling one gets when a firework appears in the air is so textured that the film becomes hard to look away from, even as it begins to sag in its second half.
While the bulk of The Blue Trail seems to follow a conventional path, Mascaro begins to take the esoteric route when he has Cadu trip balls on blue snail drool, which may or may not be a direct visual reference to Frank Herbert’s Dune? Either way, a scene like this arrives on left field and completely repurposes the rest of the movie, which takes a strangely spiritual route that seems poised to fleetingly say something about society’s mistreatment of the elderly and Tereza’s close connection with scripture, but ends up saying nothing at all. As her journey continues, the film’s images become less impressive, and our initial connection with a funny and biting protagonist begins to falter, because Mascaro and cinematographer Guillermo Garza frame her on a much smaller scale than in the first half.
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That said, Weinberg remains an effective actor and imbues her performance as Tereza with a pain she’s been carrying for decades. It further exacerbates itself by the way society rejects her altogether, even her own daughter, who prefers she live in a colony so no one has to worry about caring for her needs. But the movie works the strongest when it focuses on the adventure and Tereza’s quest to do something worth her while, for once, rather than scenes where Mascaro attempts to interiorize her.
Still, out of all the films in competition at last year’s Berlinale, The Blue Trail is one of the most engrossing and rewarding titles that graced their screens. It may not work for everyone, but its images are so potent that one leaves the cinema with a sense of renewal, and perhaps some hope that society might improve if we let the elderly decide, on their own, how they would like to spend the rest of their lives, at home or elsewhere. We should give them the privilege of doing so, because that’s what they deserve.
