#but all the nine billion ways Mick and Keith and Ronnie tried to give Charlie confidence make me feel some kind of way

[waugh-bao]

The quote from Shirley made me think of the one press conference thing where a guy (there always has to be some ‘wacky’ guy asking dumb questions at these things) asked Charlie if he had a business card. Charlie seemed annoyed and said “this is my business card” and pointed at his face. I thought good for you Charlie! It was nice to see a moment of ‘I know who I am’ confidence.

After a little sleuthing, I found it in a documentary about The Bigger Bang tour:

It is a funny interaction. He dealt with enough wackiness/idiocy on a regular basis, he wasn't putting up with any more. But what you said is true, it's a moment of 'I know who I am' confidence, and those are nice to see because they were quite rare with him.

He's one of those people where I guess you have to make a distinction between self-respect and self-confidence. Charlie had an immense amount of self-respect, something that showed itself in how he chose to live. He had a very certain image of who he wanted to be, which wasn't some kind of hedonistic rock god, and he conducted himself in accordance with that image (loyal to his wife, well dressed in a classical way, devoted to jazz, etc) even though it made him stick out in some ways.

At the same time, he didn't have a massive amount of confidence in his own abilities. Charlie was the first person to insist that he was "just the drummer", wasn't a great drummer at that, and that the band could fire or replace him easily. And Charlie was absolutely the only person of the four of them that believed that. It's sort of ironic that they fell into that dynamic, because based on the history of the band, it really should have been the other way around. They knew they were getting something extraordinary with him, he was the one taking a chance to go with them.

This is probably a slightly boring detour into history, but it's interesting to note that Charlie's ultimate drum hero was a guy called Dave Tough. Tough was an American swing and jazz drummer who played from the late '20s to 1948, and if you read interviews with almost any musician who worked in that period, they're full of praise for him. Which would come as a surprise to some people, as he's been forgotten relative to figures like Gene Krupa and Buddy Rich, famous for their long solos and big kits. As a drummer and a man; "Dave was the single most musical drummer that I've ever known...a sweet man, a gentle man" according to Artie Shaw. He was an extremely thin little man who dressed sharply every day, loved to make art and wanted to be a writer, and hated taking solos. Ultimately, he drank himself to death because, among other things, he felt he wasn't a good enough drummer.

I think one of the most beautiful things about the story of the Stones, if you can call it that, is that they worked so very hard to try to make sure that Charlie never felt the way his hero did. They did everything they could to give him confidence, always.

There's a striking moment during an interview from 2013 where Mick is explaining why Charlie couldn't play with the Stones for their Marquee Club gig in 1963, and, with Charlie sitting right next to him, he just casually tosses this out:

Likewise, there's a little throw-away line in an intro Mick did for Charlie a few years ago that strikes the same chord. He refers to Charlie as Max Roach, who was another one of Charlie's heroes and a highly respected and technically talented bebop drummer. It was Mick's way of saying 'we don't care how mediocre you think you are, we think you're as extraordinary as this guy who was one of the two or three greatest jazz drummers ever':

Ronnie was just the same:

It bears noting here, in relation to Charlie's comment about being replaceable, that the Stones have made a very conscious choice not to replace him. This is how Keith put it: "You took Charlie, everything fell apart, and to be able to transition this thing and also feeling Charlie's presence in a way via Steve...[was important]." Steve is filling in for Charlie, and he's doing it precisely because he was a close student of Charlie's style, so through him they can retain their link to Charlie when they play.

Of course, Keith was Charlie's biggest fan and booster. Like Mick, Keith took all the joy in the world in grabbing him and making him try to see how talented he was via the thousands of people screaming their admiration for him:

He could basically give a graduate level lecture on why Charlie was amazing, and would do it for any journalist who would listen:

And he did everything humanly possible to give Charlie the confidence he needed to get out there and kill as a band leader. I know we've all seen this picture:

It's Mick and Keith coming out together to support Charlie's big band premiere at Ronnie Scott's in 1985. But what you discover, if you read the reviews of all of the various bands, quartets, tenets, etc. that Charlie fronted over the years, is that Keith came to every premiere no matter where it was, and every New York performance. In fact, he and Patti flew from Jamaica specifically to see Charlie start a residency at the Blue Note in 1986. But if you look at those pieces, you'll also see a lot of stuff like this:

"Mr. Watts is as modest as can be. He waited until nearly the end to introduce the musicians; while he was presenting the bassist Dave Green, touchingly, as ''my childhood friend,'' Keith Richards, sitting at a table with a retinue, a poodle and an ever-lighted cigarette, heckled in mock surprise, 'You have one?'"

That wasn't Keith being mean to Charlie. A music critic actually discovered the real reason. Jazz band leaders are basically required, in addition to introducing their players, to do patter between songs and interact with the audience. Charlie was shy, both hated public speaking and thought he was dismally bad at it. So Keith would heckle him throughout a performance in order to make Charlie feel like he was the only person there, and like everything was safe and comfortable.

Anyway, this is far too long, but yeah, Mick, Keith, and Ronnie knew (and know) they had something singular in Charlie Watts, and they're still out there trying to show Charlie just how special he was: