CHARLIE WATTS AND THE ABCD OF BOOGIE or HOW I MET A ROLLING STONE: by Mark Saxby

The first time I saw Charlie Watts was from the back row of Earls Court in the summer of 1976. He was on stage about a hundred and fifty yards away and you'd have to say looking somewhat dwarfed by a  twenty foot inflatable ....  bestridden with an alarming vigour by Mr Mick Jagger. 

I've seen Charlie play with the Stones many  times since and on quite a few occasions Ian Stewart would be there too. He was a founder member of the Stones, sacked by Andrew Loog-Oldham for "not looking right", who'd stuck by them as road manager ["Hurry up you horrible three chord wonders"], friend and boogie-woogie piano player who famously refused to play any minor chords. He once stormed out of the Some Girls sessions saying the band sounded like Status Quo which must have told them. By all accounts the Stones adored him. 

Earlier this year friends and admirers of Ian Stewart recorded a tribute album to him and amongst the personnel on that record were the band I was going to see tonight : Charlie Watts, two world-class boogie pianists [Ben Waters, Axel Zwingenberger] and double  bass player [Dave Green]. I'd seen Charlie Watts in stadiums all over the world, his image splashed over giant video screens, his drums amplified by  p.a. systems of unimaginable power. And now I was going to see him play in a Pizza Express.

Soho in London might not be the same as it was in its heyday of Francis Bacon, the Colony Room, the Coach and Jeffrey Barnard but on a late June evening having a couple of beers on the way to see Charlie Watts it's still got it. I was, as they say, buzzing. And of course it wasn't any old Pizza Express but the basement in Dean Street that's been one of London's top jazz clubs for years.

First past the bouncer who looked like he could break walls with his head [but turned out to be polite and friendly] then down the stairs to a strange and surreal scene-----a packed out Pizza Express with two grand pianos and Charlie Watts's Gretsch kit up on a tiny stage. We were shown to our table where the emcee for the evening introduced himself as Bob Blizzard, an ex-MP who had founded the House of Commons Jazz Appreciation Society. Curiouser and curiouser. Apparently we were sat at the musicians' table ----ah, no cutlery and next to the toilets. We ordered  beers and wines and salads and sat amazed at how civilized a gig could be.[I'd resisted the temptation to ask for the Axel Zwingen burger.]  

After Bob's intro a familiar figure brushes past me and takes his seat behind the drums. Dapper and trim of course. I'd spent my entire teenage years listening to the Rolling Stones and nothing else [apart from two  songs by the Who]. Charlie Watts has been one of my idols for thirty-five years. I won't apologize, this was doing my head in. In a very good way.

The music was laid back New Orleansy swing. Jazz was Charlie's first love and blues was quite possibly his second and he was grinning from ear to over there. There was his familiar "no hi-hat on the snare beat" style and that body-swerve as the drums appeared to be playing him. The Stones always had a piano in the band and this music went back to the roots of their sound. The electric guitar never really took control in New Orleans and the piano was king, with players like Professor Longhair and the genius that still is Fats Domino.  The electric blues of Chicago had its great piano players like Otis Span and Pinetop Perkins who played with the mighty Muddy Waters. Chuck Berry depended on Johnny Johnson more than he was ever likely to admit. All were big influences on the Stones and tonight we were being taken back to those roots.

On stage the band took a couple of numbers to find their feet.The piano playing was as good as you could hear but Ben Waters' singing could best be described as enthusiastic. Things picked up when a  classy girl singer took to the stage. Sad to say the cold beer  and Italian red wine double-whammy was starting to have a very relaxing effect and I completely missed what her name is. Sorry. But she had a great husky voice and seemed to pull the band closer together. And it was a privilege to hear those classic Charlie Watts moves and mannerisms in a completely different band. The only song they did that I knew was Route 66 which was more Nat King Cole than Chuck Berry and certainly none the worse for that. The first song off the first Stone's album forty seven years later---I loved it.

And then it was over. The audience cheered the roof off, and Charlie's standing around shaking hands, chatting and smiling. He looked so friendly I thought "I'll give it a go". "Thanks Mr Watts. I thoroughly enjoyed the whole procession of events." Before I know it we're having a chat and a very nice one too. I know everyone says it but he is so unaffectedly nice. He's lived through all that mayhem with the Rolling Stones---Altamont, drug busts, Exile, --- and come out the other side like this. Safe to say he'll never read this blog----when I tell him I write for the Stones Facebook page he throws his hands up in horror saying "Good Lord! I haven't even got a mobile phone."

As I go to leave he says "I thought you were staying for the second show." But I know it's been perfect up to now and another two hours on the musicians'  table with   my borderline-alcoholic companions could lead to complications. Plus I don't have fifty-five pounds to spare for another ticket.

" I've had a great night but I've got to write my review. I'll make sure it's a good one------try to get you some more work."

Charlie grinned and I turned and headed back into Soho. Marvellous.