As Stones Fans Age, Their Enthusiasm Remains Strong

After 50 years in the rock music business, the Rolling Stones have an average age of 68, higher than the average age of the justices on the United States Supreme Court. By all accounts, they are aging well, as have their songs.

And judging by the crowds streaming into Barclays Center in Brooklyn for the first Stones concert in the city since 2006, many of their fans are aging gracefully too.

The dominant hair color among the men hurrying up to the arena's doors was silver, the haircuts were mostly expensive, and the shoes peaking out below clean jeans were often of fine leather. Many are now successful businessmen who have loved the band since their teens, before they were successful or businessmen.

And most had laid out hundreds of dollars or more for tickets, not out of nostalgia, but because the band and its songs had become inextricably woven into their generation's st ory.

“It's a pretty good show for a bunch of 70-year-olds,” smiled Wick Simmons, 72, the former chairman of the Nasdaq Stock Market, as he strode quickly from the No. 4 train into the brick plaza in front of the arena with his wife and daughter.

The Stones are playing the same rough-edged, jangly blues-inflected rock that they always have. But the band, once seen as dangerous, hedonistic and anti-establishment, has somehow become the establishment, as their fans have aged and climbed the social ladder.

“This is my fifth decade of Stones tours,” said one 59-year-old fan from Baltimore, a business owner who gave his name as John M. He recalled going to his first Stones concert in 1979 in Philadelphia; he had bough t five tickets for $25 a piece and sold two at a profit outside the stadium to cover his own entrance.

This time, he paid $850 each for two tickets, and he only managed to procure them, he said, because American Express, as a corporate sponsor, had given its customers a batch of seats to purchase before the rest went on sale. “I have an Amex Platinum card,” he explained, somewhat sheepishly. “And they have a concierge ticket program.”

To celebrate its 50th anniversary, the band did two shows in London and then performed the concert in Brooklyn on Saturday night. The Stones plan to do two more shows at the Prudential Center in Newark on Thursday and Saturday. On Wednesday they are also slated to appear at a benefit concert at Madison Square Garden for victims of Hurricane Sandy.

Some longtime fans chafed at the high cost of tickets for the s hows. Mark Schraml, 52, a printer from Huntington, Long Island, had gone to six other Stones concerts over the years, but none were as pricey: he shelled out $1,000 for two seats.

Asked if it was worth the expense to see a band whose the lead singer is now 69, he laughed.

“It makes me feel young,” Mr. Schraml said. “I'm in my fifties and the fact that these guys are still rocking and rolling, it gives me hope.”

For some fans, the concert marked the fulfillment of a lifelong dream, a chance to see the Stones in the flesh before they go the way of all flesh.

Lisa Leone, 48, an accountant from Manhattan, said she had loved the group passionately since the late 1960s but had never been able to go to a concert. There were always financial and logistical hurdles.

This time, however, she was lucky and obtained a ticket through a friend who knows the drummer Charlie Watts. She spent the whole day before the concert playing “Sticky Fingers” i n her apartment. feel like I'm five,” she said before the concert. “I was in tears this morning. That's how excited I am. Doesn't everyone want to see the Stones before they die?”

She added: “Even as old as they are you still hear the Stones, and they are still considered the best band of all.”

Not everyone at the concert was over 40. Here and there were gaggles 20-somethings from Brooklyn and Manhattan, the girls in trendy clothes, the men in short-brimmed hats and goatees. A few families could be seen going through the turnstiles, the children scurrying to keep up with their parents.

In the plaza, fans of all ages tried to find someone with an extra ticket they were willing to part with. Some held up a finger or two to signal how many tickets they needed. Others moved about calling, “Tickets. Anyone got a ticket?” One man stood stoically with sign that said: “My Wife Thinks I'm Out Buying Diapers.”

“People like the sign, but so far no luck,” he said, giving his name only as Walter.

Anthony Emory, 27, who works in finance, coolly smoked a cigarette while the crowd of people rushed and roiled around him. Asked how he became a fan of a band that started a quarter century before his birth, he shrugged and exhaled smoke.

“I always liked classic rock,” he said. He paused. “Their longevity is definitely one reason.”

“Everything they sing about is still relevant,” his date, Katherine Walters, 26, said.

“They connect to a lot of different generations,” Mr. Emory said.

Still, the crowd skewed toward the baby boomer generation, some of whom approached the arena as if they were in the last lap of a race. Charles Levit, 62, moved as quickly as his portly frame would let him, shuffling rapidly up to the doors, thrusting a cane before him and panting a bit. He had a Rolling Stones T-shirt underneath his camel overcoat.

“I saw them forty years ago and I was a bouncer for them in Brussels and that was the last time and they promised me a T-shirt,” he said, a little out of breath, as if it explained everything. Then he turned to go inside.