You can’t always get what you need. But sometimes, you just might find you get what you want.

And that might be more than you can handle.

Bill German, a self-described “nice boy from Brooklyn,” was only 17 when he handed a copy of his fanzine “Beggars Banquet” to Rolling Stone guitarist Ron Wood.

Bill German (left) and Keith Richards in 1986. (Beggars Banquet Archive)

Within two years, German was officially part of the band’s never-ending rock-n-roll circus. He followed the Stones on tour, covered them for their fan club, and even partied with Wood and Keith Richards.

German’s 2009 book, “Under Their Thumb,” now in an expanded edition for the band’s 60th anniversary tells the story of “how I made it into the Stones’ inner sanctum and how I crawled out,” he explains.

"Under Their Thumb," by Bill German (Backbeat)

“It’s also about the overachievers, and underachievers – the groupies, pushers and flunkies – I met along the way,” German writes. “Some of them are still there, and some of them got carried off in handcuffs or caskets. But all of us lived our dream of hanging out with the Rolling Stones.

“Be careful what you wish for,” he continues.

German was 9 when he heard his first Stones record, thanks to his older sister. Soon he was studying every lyric, buying every single. But as he grew up, finding other fans in Canarsie was hard. Everyone else was into “Saturday Night Fever.”

So, German went looking for fans. He cut-and-pasted together his own Stones newsletter in his bedroom. When no one was looking, he ran off a hundred copies on the school mimeograph machine, then convinced a local record store to carry them, priced at a quarter.

German didn’t give up, though. By the time he graduated high school, he had hundreds of subscribers to his amateur newsletter. He wasn’t making much money, but readers loved his nightlife gossip about where the Stones were rolling.

Bill German (left) with Ron Wood at their book party in 1987. (Chuck Pulin)

The band was leaving a party for their “Emotional Rescue” album when German put that copy into Woods’ hands. He would later get one to Richards, too. Other issues were dropped off at their record-company offices. Pretty soon, all the Stones were reading them.

“This kid knows what we’re doing before we do,” Mick Jagger said.

With most of the band then living in Manhattan, pretty soon German was doing this full time, following them from club to club, prowling for news. His journalism studies at NYU? Those were put on hold.

“School is interfering with my education,” he told his parents. “I’m already doing what I want, so why waste time in class?”

Bill Wyman, Ron Wood and Bill German in London in 1987. (Dave Hogan)

Not something most parents want to hear. But soon, German got what he hadn’t dared dream of — an offer to join the Stones — well, at least, the Stones’ entourage.

The band was starting an official fan club and needed a newsletter. They decided it was much easier to promote German’s fanzine than to create their own. So they let German tag along, providing access – tickets, backstage passes, and interviews – he couldn’t get before.

What he didn’t get, however, was a real job with a regular salary.

When German went on tour with the band, he stayed at the Holiday Inn. When he went home to Manhattan, it was to a roach-infested dump he’d taken over from one of Richards’ former drug dealers. He was poor – but, he proudly told himself, he was independent.

And, German says, what he received in return was priceless.

He listened to Richards talk openly about “the horrible, terrible fascination” of heroin. “When you’re on it, everything’s cool,” Richards said. “And the more you take it, the more cool it is, and the more necessary it is to be cool.”

Wood, also, spoke frankly about the mercurial Jagger. “The thing that me and Keith always say is that Mick Jagger is a nice bunch of guys,” Wood said. “He can turn you on or turn you off on any given day.”

And German was afforded an unvarnished look into the band’s dysfunctional dynamics. Feuds between the rest of the group and Jagger were constant.

Drummer Charlie Watts once punched him out over a perceived slight. Wood and bassist Bill Wyman felt he wanted them fired. Richards, who had known Jagger since they were teens, called him “Brenda” behind his back and bitterly resented his time on solo projects.

From left to right: Ron Wood, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards on Sept. 26, 2021, their first concert after drummer Charlie Watts' death. (Jim Pietryga)

“What I don’t think Mick ever realizes is that, without the Rolling Stones, half his power is gone,” Richards declared flatly. “It’s like Samson having his hair cut off.”

Finally, in 1989, after years off the road, the squabbling Stones announced a new tour. And, very rapidly, it became clear that things were very different.

“I’m only doing this tour for one reason,” Jagger admitted. “The money.”

That meant cutting ties with loyal, longtime promoters and publicists he felt couldn’t deliver. It also meant taking on corporate sponsors and selling high-priced merchandise, like $450 jackets.

Only the biggest venues were booked. Gone were the surprise gigs at funky nightclubs. Ticket prices were doubled to a then-hefty $30. Guests were welcome backstage, but anyone – even wives – who wanted an actual seat had to pay.

Meanwhile, Jagger seized control of the setlist. There would be no more surprise songs, no unexpected jams. They would play the hits. They would play them exactly the way they had recorded them. And they would play them in precisely the same order every night.

“Spontaneity usually means mistakes,” Jagger declared. And who wants spontaneity in rock-n-roll?

Richards eventually got them to change the repertoire a little, but mostly Jagger’s ideas prevailed. They were successful, too. The “Steel Wheels” tour brought in a lot more money than the Stones were used to seeing.

For their last stop on the American tour, they even added three high-priced nights in Atlantic City, promoting the Trump Plaza Hotel and Casino. Trump charged $250 a ticket and gave fistfuls as gifts to high-rollers, “blue-haired old ladies and guys who reeked of Vitalis,” German writes.

Many of them fled the show early, their hands over their ears.

Something had changed in the rowdy, rebellious Stones. Something was changing in German, too. When a broadcast journalist introduced him as “a fan’s fan,” German wondered. Is that all he was? He began to sink into a deep depression.

“I felt overwhelmed and had thoughts of suicide,” he confesses. “I wasn’t living my own life anyway, so what would the difference be? I’d spent my entire adult life indulging other people’s whims, celebrating other people’s accomplishments, instead of my own.”

Keith Richards (left) and Bill German in November 1988. (Beggars Banquet Archive)

As Richards could have told him, kicking any habit isn’t easy or quick. But after the “Voodoo Lounge” tour ended in 1996, German went cold turkey. He told readers he was ending “Beggars Banquet.” He had been doing this for 17 years, and now, at 33, it was time to do something else.

German doesn’t say, though, what that’s been lately. He stayed in casual touch with Richards and Wood. And he published this book in 2009 and revised it now.

Whatever German does next, though, he maintains he achieved what few ever do – he realized his dream. And when that dream began to fray, he moved on.

Copyright © 2021, New York Daily News

Copyright © 2021, New York Daily News