the sunshine blows the daylights out of me

On July 26 of next year Mick Jagger will be 30 years old. In the near decade since time was on out side, the Beatles have ascended to the status of living mythology, but the Rolling Stones rock on. The Stones are the most fascinating popular phenomenon of our time, and their influence, surpassed only by that of the Beatles, is certain to be felt in pop culture for years to come.

Time can no longer be considered to be on our side, however, for as the Stones continue to pound out hit after raunchy, driving hit, their audience grows old with them. The July 4 concert in Washington drew 48,000 dancing stoned fans, but they were mostly over 20, and for many of them, this must surely be the last time that they will consider standing in line for six hours after an all-night campout in order to get tickets.

It is impossible to consider that the albums will be stashed away to gather moss next to the Glenn Miller '78s of our parents, but it is equally impossible to think that we will continue to respond the way we do. The pace of life has tended to produce instant nostalgia, and this may happen even before the Stones are gone. They might outlive us into another generation that needs then help along the pimply road of adolescence or they might just fade away.

Jagger appeared in the spotlight as if materializing out of stardust, the gold spangles by his eyes flashing to the sensual rhythm of the opening chords of Brown Sugar. The magnificent excitement which only they produce was tempered by only one suspicion: that This Could be the Last Time.