On July 13, 1985, under the lights of John F. Kennedy Stadium in South Philadelphia, two of rock’s most magnetic performers collided in a moment that still crackles with energy four decades later. Mick Jagger, days shy of his 42nd birthday and riding the release of his first solo album She’s the Boss, and Tina Turner, 45 and soaring on the massive success of Private Dancer, delivered one of Live Aid’s most unforgettable performances.
Live Aid, organized by Bob Geldof and Midge Ure, was a dual-venue benefit concert for Ethiopian famine relief. Simultaneous shows ran at Wembley Stadium in London and JFK Stadium in Philadelphia. An estimated 1.5 to 1.8 billion people watched worldwide. In Philly, roughly 89,000 to 100,000 fans filled the aging stadium on a hot summer day.
Jagger’s Solo Set and a Surprise Guest
The Rolling Stones were not performing as a full band that day (Keith Richards and Ronnie Wood later backed Bob Dylan). Jagger took the stage late in the evening with a short solo set, backed in part by Hall & Oates and members of their band, plus Temptations alumni Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffin on some numbers. He opened with two tracks from She’s the Boss—“Lonely at the Top” and “Just Another Night”—then slid into the Stones classic “Miss You.” The crowd was already locked in. Then came the call that changed the temperature of the night: “Alright, where’s Tina?”
Tina Turner strutted onstage in a tight black leather top and skirt, stilettos clicking, presence immediate. The pair launched into “State of Shock,” the 1984 Jacksons hit on which Jagger had originally shared vocals with Michael Jackson. The chemistry was instant—playful, competitive, and charged. Two masters of stage movement fed off each other in real time. Halfway through their roughly six-minute shared set, the song shifted into the Rolling Stones’ “It’s Only Rock ’n’ Roll (But I Like It).” The energy climbed higher. Horns blasted. Jagger tore off his T-shirt mid-song, later changing into a yellow blazer. Then came the moment that became legend: he dramatically pulled off Turner’s leather skirt.
The Skirt and the Showmanship
Tina later described the moment in her 2018 memoir My Love Story. She and Jagger had a long friendship and shared understanding of performance. Neither was the type to simply stand and sing. Before they went on, Jagger looked her over and asked, with a sly edge, whether the skirt came off. When she reacted with surprise, he simply announced he was going to take it off.
“I asked him why, but it was too late to talk it through,” she wrote. “Mick had already made his mind up to do it… ‘Just to create something,’ he said.”
Tina was prepared. Underneath she wore dancer’s briefs and fishnet stockings that kept everything in place. She played the startled reaction for the cameras and the crowd, ducking behind Jagger as the skirt came away, then finished the song in a black leotard with total command. The move was theatrical, calculated, and pure rock ’n’ roll theater. The stadium erupted. Jagger has long credited Turner (along with James Brown) as a key influence on his own kinetic stage style. That night the student and the teacher met as equals, both at peaks of their powers, and the result was electric.
Why It Still Matters
Live Aid was packed with big moments—Queen’s Wembley triumph, U2’s emotional set, the Led Zeppelin reunion, Phil Collins flying the Concorde to play both shows. In Philadelphia, the Jagger-Turner duet stands among the brightest. It captured pure performance joy at a time when both artists were navigating new chapters: Jagger testing solo waters, Turner reclaiming and expanding her stardom after years of struggle.
The performance remains widely available and still draws millions of views. It is pure chemistry, movement, and attitude—two icons refusing to phone it in on a night dedicated to something larger than themselves. For those who were in JFK Stadium that humid July evening, or watching from living rooms around the world, it was one of those rare televised moments when rock ’n’ roll felt dangerous, fun, and completely alive. Mick and Tina didn’t just perform. They played. And Philadelphia got the best seat in the house.
