Who
The Rolling Stones
Support
Cage The Elephant
Where
Paris U Arena
When
25th October 2017
Price
€89.50
Who with
No-one
Position
In the middle
Comments
To hit my 200th concert was a big landmark in itself, and enhancing this experience by enjoying my first show abroad - barring a handful in Wales, if that counts - and seeing probably the most famous band of them all really made it one to remember. The occasion would have been even more special if I hadn't seen The Stones already four years beforehand, but on balance I'm happy to say that the experiences were both sufficiently different and memorable to justify the repeat viewing. At €89.50 it wasn't quite as pricey as the £95 I'd forked out to see them at Hyde Park, and when I caught wind of this tour and realised that it coincided nicely with the time I wanted to visit Paris I couldn't resist, in particular having monitored the ride closures at Disneyland for a couple of years and realising that this would be its 25th anniversary, and so everything would be open and available to enjoy in time for the summer and autumn of 2017. I got my ticket without too much drama but it was only after my frustration at being in the rear standing area for Guns 'N' Roses that I paid closer attention to which tickets I'd actually purchased, realising that an inner barrier would also be in operation here, which I'd be behind. This knowledge made me aware that I had to arrive quite early and helped to dissipate my frustration, although I was much more concerned by the small print on the A4 piece of paper that formed my ticket suggesting that photography was completely barred, which was such a horrible thought that as the show approached I started to regret buying tickets, no longer being sure if I fancied the risk of being turned away at the gates for having a small camera as opposed to a mobile phone that does effectively the same thing, and reminding myself that I'd already seen The Stones once and had done alright out of it, and after four more years that they may finally have hit that brick wall and gone into decline, so doubt was building in my mind.

Normally I frame my concert reviews with comprehensive analysis of what I've been up to before and after the event, but considering that this show came on the fifth out of eight nights in Paris and that I'm impatient to write it up and move onto other things, I may cut down on the superfluous details. The many thousands of pictures I took will have to do the same job! I booked five nights in my first Paris hotel immediately after bagging my ticket, suspecting that hotel rooms would be snapped up quickly. I later realised that there was plenty to occupy me in Paris and that I wanted to spent the final three nights in the city too, meaning that I would be moving hotel rooms unnecessarily, but that I'd somehow found absolutely ideal locations both along the red RER A line, with awesome double decker trains and the location of The Rolling Stones concert to the west of the line, and Disneyland to the east. Perfect! I indulged in the Paris Museum Pass which actually saved me a fortune, and as I had so much to see and didn't fancy twiddling my thumbs waiting for French service for two hours at a time I in fact ate at McDonald's for most of my meals, which was slightly tarnished by the bizarre realisation that meals cost around £10 a time, and that the English language ticket ordering machines weren't complemented by English language order pickup! I'd actually been to the site of the concert - La Défense Cube - the night before, after metro closure fuck-ups had ruined my dash to Arc De Triomphe for sunset, and if I'd fully grasped that the Cube was also the location of the concert I'd perhaps have made other plans rather than visiting the area twice, first after dark and then on the night of the show perfectly in time for the sunset to begin!

Before travelling out I'd enjoyed a jam-packed morning of sightseeing, then headed back to the hotel room to shower and change into the Street Fighter t-shirt I'd also sported for their 2013 concert, then remembering the utter fucking disaster of Guns 'N' Roses and backing up my photos for the day so far before heading out again. I also reminded the hotel that I'd be back late - as the custom in Paris is that they give you a comically large room key and you have to hand it in before you go out - but they weren't bothered about this as they are staffed 24/7. I must say that my fears about the rudeness of the French had been completely put at rest. The thing that strikes me about my experience was the honesty of the locals, not even attempting to mischarge me when I booked beers in the happy hour and didn't realise that it was on, but still charging me the correct price without my having to argue. Also not whacking service charges on my bills or a few euros for disgusting bread that was put on my table without my consent further increased my appreciation, and I rewarded this honestly both with tips and repeated visits to the honest establishments. If everyone shared my attitude of rewarding good behaviour and punishing twattishness then no-one could get away with dishonesty! Also I really appreciated that the French were every bit as militant as I was about taking photos of things they want to capture, with practically nowhere having the nerve to arbitrarily ban photography. Bizarrely Disneyland was the only place that tried to stop people, which is ironic as the entire point of Disneyland should be getting treated like a king and being allowed to indulge in what you want. My admiration of the French increased further when I visited Sacre Coeur toward the end of the trip to discover that the one place I've found in all of France that does strongly push a no photograph policy is in reality very relaxed about it, with the visitors completely ignoring the Nazi rules, and even more admirably the staff not being big enough twats to try and enforce it.

Of course for their nerve in declaring such a rule and putting worry on my mind I had to punish the church by not paying money to climb the dome, but after my experience of the French mindset I was relieved and not as surprised to read on the website that cameras weren't amongst the list of prohibited items at the concert, although just in case I refrained from taking my camera case with me. Another example that boosted my appreciation of the French was that a government minister had aggressively forced the Musée d'Orsay to lift their ludicrous photography ban by just going in there and taking photos to demonstrate that it was ok, and I absolutely love that. I'm equally fanatical about being considerate, which means no twat sticks, no flash, no cameras held over the head and so forth, but at the same time I believe we should stand up for what's right, and in my life taking photos is something I always want to do, and when anybody tries to stop me it becomes increasingly difficult to not just scream fuck off in their face. It does no harm to anyone and means the world to me, and I honestly don't see how the people who forge a career out of stopping people from doing something they want to do for no reason besides the fact they've been told to stop them can live with themselves. Either they blindly and submissively follow and enforce rules with no independent thought as to their validity, or they are sick fucks who get off on ruining the enjoyment of others. But I have no qualms about calling them Nazis because they demonstrate the same mindset, and if they don't like the tag, they should take a breath, think about what they do and why, and then redeem themselves by quitting their jobs or high pressuring their bosses to change their ludicrous policies. I set out from the hotel to the Arc De Triomphe for a second visit, encountering very little drama and few crowds despite the time approaching evening rush hour. I got a meal deal from the delightful Marks & Spencer shop in the metro station, then used my Museum Pass to skip the queues and dash up the Arc De Triomphe stairs quite quickly, being delighted to experience some sunny photos, especially as going on holiday in October means that good weather can never be guaranteed in northern Europe. It nicely made up for missing out on the Arch the day before, after completing one successful visit in full darkness earlier in my trip!

I then wandered over to the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral nearish to the Arc De Triomphe, not holding much hope of it being open and ultimately happy to get a few photos of the exterior in sunshine. I then got the train to La Défense, getting some lovely early evening shots of the business district before it started to get dark, kind of destroying the point of my dash there the night before, but still being rather nice. The businessmen had finished for the day so it was a pleasant atmosphere of office workers chilling out and a handful of Rolling Stones fans mingling. I thought I should get some extra food so I then paid a visit to McDonald's, filling up unnecessarily perhaps, but with a long evening ahead of me it was the wise thing to do. Sadly details evade me because it has taken me four weeks from the date of the gig to write this far, and that's one of the things about enjoying a concert in the middle of an already busy holiday! I do recall that the McDonald's had a security guard outside checking bags, and it's sad to see so many bags checks everywhere in Paris, although in the circumstances I can understand. With a full stomach and feeling refreshed I walked around La Défense Cube just as it was getting dark, following a large and free flowing crowd to the first security checkpoint, ensuring that no-one was carrying anything ludicrously inappropriate, and providing a second layer of safety before the slightly more thorough checks on the entrance. I hadn't risked taking a bottle of water inside as the last thing I wanted at my first gig abroad was the hassle of being unable to communicate and explain myself, so I had nothing either harmful or inappropriate to worry about. I must say that the French gig crowds were a cut above what we have at home, with many of them well-dressed rather than appearing in scruffy band t-shirts, and it made us feel inferior to realise that piss-chucking is a concept that I expect would horrify the French as much as it really should offend us, with the animalistic behaviour of homegrown concertgoers seeming more shameful by comparison with this sophisticated crowd.

Not to say they were boring, as a few were gently taking the piss out of the stewards loudly shouting which queue was which, as I joined what felt like the bulk of the crowd in the Violet queue for the rear standing area. The stadium was a modern white shell with panels that looked a little like pillows all around, and it was changing colour constantly. The stadium was so new that The Rolling Stones were the first band to ever perform here, although without any real intention I'd managed to book for the final night of their entire tour, and third show at the venue, with three day gaps between each performance so the guys wouldn't have the hard slog of doing it night after night with no time to enjoy themselves in between. Also it being the last night meant that any teething issues should hopefully have been sorted out, although I must say that the overall level of organisation put the supposedly experienced fuckwits behind the London Olympic Stadium disaster in the shade. As I was in the queue and keen to get inside a little over an hour after the doors had opened at 6pm, I didn't pay much attention to the t-shirt stand, not clocking the prices at either the store outside or inside the arena. A sign outside said to prepare for palpation, which sounded to me like palpitations, but the illustration explained that it was in fact the second security check. There was also what looked like a monorail track elevated over the walkway, which cut off in the middle of the air and is surely unfinished, and a couple of armed guards - perhaps even snipers - were posted there, making me appreciate just how well looked after we were being, and that the organisers had got the combination between security and politeness/efficiency absolutely spot-on. I got through the door with my ticket print-out and had no need to try and converse in French, although considering that I was going to watch a legendary English-speaking band this was hardly an anti-English crowd, and amid the massive Parisian contingent it was easy to hear the few English voices, some of whom may live in France and others having made the trip specially. I was quick off the mark booking hotels and encountered no issue with inflated prices, although this could have been thanks to the massive tourist infrastructure and scale that Paris enjoys.

There were even clear displays on the arena walls - which had also found their way onto the website - making it known exactly what was and wasn't allowed, even down to the precise size of bags we could take in. Although frustrated by the earlier vagueness of the rules on the ticket print-out, I was pleased and relieved by the clarity of the rules, and in particular that there wasn't going to be an arbitrary ban on photography, which not only would have been ludicrous in a large venue, but would have put me off attending the concert altogether out of principle. The small-print on the ticket suggesting that photos weren't allowed turned out to be bullshit or wording that doesn't translate clearly. I got inside and was surprised to note that the arena had a roof, and only now do I read up and discover that it doesn't open because the original plan for a retractable roof was dropped. The capacity is 40,000 but it felt exceptionally well-designed, with the seating area not extending too high and a feeling that even standing at the back would be alright, in sharp contrast to say Nottingham Arena, which has a quarter of the capacity but felt considerably more cavernous and therefore disappointing. The fact that such a large venue could feel like a typical indoor arena was a positive testament to its design, but the downside was that being indoors made it feel a little less like a stadium show. I secured a reasonable position toward the right and a little bit back from the inner barrier, being pleased to note that the arena wasn't that full yet and that I'd lost absolutely nothing by doing some sightseeing, eating and dressing up beforehand. Four screens were projected over the stage, each featuring the classic Rolling Stones tongue on top of a night time shot of a city, that I guess was Paris but you couldn't tell from the photo. I could see that the catwalk was of a much more modest length than it had been in Hyde Park for the 25,000 extra fans there, and although I hadn't paid full attention to ticket sales I'm sure it must have been a sell-out, with the standing areas presumably selling out incredibly fast, making me feel lucky that I'd managed to bag a ticket after a good bit of clicking on the ticketing website.

I'd hoped for a big-name support act so was disappointed by the choice of Cage The Elephant, who took to the stage a good 15 minutes before the show was supposed to start at 8pm. However as I didn't know anything about them I was prepared to greet them with an open mind, it's just sad as concerts of this scale should really feature big-name support acts. They were an American group with six members and next to zero grasp of French, with the singer constantly saying merci beaucoup, and once he'd warmed up he delivered all of his speeches in English. It's hard to imagine an English crowd being as understanding if someone like Daft Punk came to our shores and would only speak/sing French to us, but this audience was cool about it and appreciative, either because they are Anglophiles to begin with or are just used to being exposed to English-speaking culture. The singer ruled the roost, dressing in white like Johnny Borrell, trying to engage with the crowd, running side-to-side across the stage and leaping into the audience toward the end, which is a risky move for a support act when the front rows are not there out of appreciation for you! The crowd were polite with their applause and clearly shared my amusement as the singer performed one number serenading himself via a large mirror he was carrying around, then also stripping off to just his tight trousers as the show wore on. I believe that they were the support act on all of the dates, and you can understand that The Stones had no pressing need to shift any more tickets with a big-name support. They were enthusiastic enough to keep us entertained and not attract any negativity, and interestingly the side screens were only utilised for Cage The Elephant, not forming any part of the main show. I took one low quality video capturing the so-so light show while the singer was screaming somewhere off camera, and the crowd bobbing their heads with an appropriate level of support act enthusiasm. I can't complain but at the same time feel no desire to investigate these guys any further, and wish them good luck in releasing a landmark record to gain my attention in future!

After Cage The Elephant left the stage, the pre-show machinery moved swiftly into action, and for a group like The Rolling Stones it was inevitable that they could afford the most efficient and talented guys in the roadie business. The four screens onstage again projected the red lips on each, but now with a crisp and simple yellow backing. I expected the low rig to be moved up for the main event and was surprised that it remained low, unlike the guys behind us in the towers who'd be controlling the lights, with either six or eight of them braving the step ladders to get into position for the duration of the show. I don't recall that the highest lighting rigs were ever populated, but nevertheless it was clear that no expense was being spared to give us a massive production. Some children were weaving in and out of the crowd, making me wonder if they were pickpockets or just lost, but with my coat round my waist and camera in hand there would be no-one robbing me tonight! I really hadn't heard much Stones music before the show, but they are of such a critical mass that I know all of the big hitters anyway, and without spoiling the setlist for myself - although I did keep seeing glimpses of it on Facebook - it was tough to know what other tunes would be played, and developing my love for rarer tunes only to discover that they weren't part of the show would be both a time-consuming and thankless task. I'd expected something more traditional as the opener, but when the lights went down and turned red, I was delighted to hear the introduction of Sympathy For The Devil. Last time it had been about real smoke but this time it was all red video screens without pyro, but the boldness of opening with what was so naturally a big finale song was appreciated, even more so as it immediately set this performance apart from Hyde Park and helped reassure me that this wasn't going to be a pointless retread of before. The highlight of the tune was when Keith appeared, and the first few times he strummed his guitar it was not only very loud, but was accompanied by lights so we'd fully appreciate the pleasure of having tonight's lead guitarist with us. I shot my first video of everyone doing the whoops at the start and many phones in the air, and am thrilled that the evening started off so strongly, and Mick was on form and sporting a sparkling jacket.

The band reverted to much more predictable form next with It's Only Rock 'N' Roll (But I Like It), but it's a familiar tune and it was great to hear the French fans so enthusiastically joining in with the English lyrics. My second video reminds me that the backdrop was black and white, and although the sound quality wasn't perfect and crowd weren't the most frenzied, the whinging I'd heard about them on the previous nights in Paris seemed unfair, or simply by virtue of being in a good spot and amid the real fans rather than sulking at the back I got to enjoy proceedings much more. It was extraordinary that on their 55th anniversary and well over 4 years after I'd last seen them that The Stones demonstrated the same energy and enthusiasm I'd seen in 2013, when that performance really felt like it could/should have been a last hurrah. But I guess people have been saying that since the 1980s, yet all the Stones do is get increasingly grizzled and iconic while somehow maintaining the same levels of energy! Of course it's Mick Jagger that we all look to for charisma and action, but the smiles and enthusiasm of Keith and Ronnie show that whatever they do to keep it up must be working for everyone! Mick spoke a lot of English, but later showed himself capable of speaking a good bit of French too, asking if we want to "chanté avec moi", and at points reeling off whole French sentences, thereby managing to win everyone over. And the French fans seemed to share my enthusiasm for taking photos and videos during the show, and despite the generally classy behaviour there was the traditional bout of twat hands in the air ruining many of my attempts at photos, which was tough because I was a good bit further back than I had been at Hyde Park, although this meant I could enjoy the overall scene nicely. In place of the inactive side screens, the entire back of the stage had been turned into a large projection of the guys and endless repository of video footage, although for some reason Tumbling Dice wasn't heralded by an array of dice on screen. I shot a video of a shortish part of the verse, with Mick having dropped the jacket he was twirling around in for Sympathy to perform in just a black t-shirt. He was as slim as ever, and it was great to hear one of my favourite Stones tunes present and correct too.

The pace then dropped massively for a couple of tunes from their Blue & Lonesome covers album, which not only had garnered some very good reviews the year before but had quietly hit the number one spot in many countries around the world. Although entirely pleasant, I must say these unfamiliar tunes drifted me by. I next vaguely recognised She's So Cold, although apparently I don't own it, and only now am learning that it's the second single from the Emotional Rescue album in 1980. I'd half-expected that the pace couldn't be maintained and that The Stones wouldn't be up for playing wall-to-wall hits, and next up was the fan choice, which if cocked up could be blamed on the fans rather than the band! Doo Doo Doo Heartbreaker, Emotional Rescue and Rocks Off were the rejected choices, and we all roared with approval to learn that the utterly superior She's A Rainbow had been correctly chosen by the fans. It was a tune I never thought I'd get to hear them play, and apparently they've only dusted it off four times since 1998 - twice in 2016 and twice again in 2017 - so this was a very special honour. The band seemed to enjoy it as much as we did too - or otherwise are very accomplished at feigning joy - with the tune featuring utterly lovely keyboards, a gentle stripped-back pace and a simple backdrop that cycled through the colours of the rainbow just as you'd want it to. Mick strapped on his acoustic guitar, and although I can't help but think of its similarity to She Comes in Colors by Love, at least it is musically distinct despite the lyrical commonality. The momentum wasn't squandered thanks to an early outing for You Can't Always Get What You Want, which was one that the French fans had no trouble singing along with whatsoever. I shot a short video and it did miss the choir and epic scale it had enjoyed in Hyde Park, although as I wouldn't call it quite the masterpiece it had been blown up to be last time around it was actually all the better for not being presented as such a big deal. I shot a second video toward the end with the fans clapping and Mick strutting up and down the stage, and this very strong section wasn't going to end there either.

The roar of enthusiasm that it was greeted with made me think that Paint It Black must be a massive favourite in Paris, or otherwise it had suffered in London from being played quite early and in daylight. Any concerns about crowd reaction were put firmly to bed by now, with the clapping and many other people filming the inevitable black and white backdrops as it unfolded. Next up was Honky Tonk Women, with a sepia black and white video and Mick going from side to side of the huge stage to hype up the crowd. My video captured great singing on the chorus and Mick's costume change to a pink jacket that had been pulled off without anyone noticing, then a second short video featuring a blurred close-up of Mick towards the end of the song. Next up were the band introductions, with everyone leaving the stage to be invited back on one at a time by Mick. Ronnie Wood completely stole this segment, milking the applause for all it was worth as he re-emerged, having switched from blue to red clothes. And Jagger declaring him the Renoir of rock was a wonderfully alliterative way of calling him a master while shouting out to French culture and sophistication at the same time. Charlie Watts also departed from his drum kit to come to the front, resisting the urge to speak and for reasons unknown the cameraman decided to present a close-up of his shoes. At a point which may have been here there was a long and unnecessary bass solo from Darryl Jones, who'd been filling in for Bill Wyman since 1993. Mick departed the stage and left us with Keith, who was kind enough to give the main man a shout-out, but made no attempt whatsoever to speak French as he took a few minutes out to chat to us. Last time his solo section had felt like a waste of space, although I later realised that Before They Make Me Run is a great tune. This time though he kicked off with Happy, which I already accepted was a top number and it seemed to connect with all. I shot a video and everyone else seemed to know and enjoy it too, and as a hit single primarily written and sung by him it is nice proof that the band wouldn't be without merit if you took Mick out of the picture, although thanks to his vocals and showmanship - and I suspect massive contribution to the songwriting process - it is his brilliance that makes The Stones what they are, although Keith's more casual and subtle contribution inevitably means he is regarded as the cool one, whether fairly or not.

I didn't know a thing about Keith's second tune Slipping Away, so will just move onto Mick's return - now in a blue top - for Miss You. I shot another video capturing classy neon lights on the video screens which were animated to look like four smartphones, and the crowd were encouraged to sing along amid the purple lights. Last time this song had taken me by surprise with its sassy energy, and although good again it lacked the surprise factor of before. Next up was chronic waste of space Midnight Rambler, which if anything felt less desirable than before when it had been unknown and had the virtue of giving an opportunity for Mick Taylor to rejoin the guys. It was frustrating that the business end of the set was tarnished with such a long and tedious tune, which suffers also from fake endings, and it's tough to see how the band could enjoy performing it time and again either. The fans either felt differently or were excessively polite in enjoying it, although I wanted to be utterly silent as if they performed it night-after-night to deadly quiet and indifference then the guys may take the hint, and future audiences would get to enjoy two or three stone cold classics in its place. Still, The Rolling Stones were doing enough to have justified my effort in attending, and the cruelest injustice of Hyde Park was rectified when they launched into Street Fighting Man! I shot a video and it was so clear, with a black and white backdrop erupting into colour as they hit the chorus. It's a strange tune, with the jerkiness of the vocals being amplified live rather than downplayed to give it some flow. Mick had changed into a red No Filter t-shirt - named after the tour - and I was sad that my Street Fighter t-shirt had received no love or acknowledgement for a second Stones concert in a row. Last time around the band had annoyed me so much by missing out this tune, and now it was present and correct it enabled me to enjoy and appreciate it, while at the same time drawing my attention to how much stronger and more exciting other tunes that I may once have thought of as inferior actually were. Start Me Up featured the words on the screens in big letters and I couldn't resist a short video, capturing the backing vocals for the making grown men cry bit.

By this point time was getting on, and despite spending the best part of two hours onstage there were still plenty of hits to go. I presumed that the guys would wrap it up quickly with a burst of (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction, so was surprised and a little worried when they launched into Brown Sugar instead. I shot a video capturing more black and white backdrops, before cutting it out when someone's phone got in the way. Am I really the only person in the world who never holds my camera over my head for long videos or records for more than a minute or so, out of consideration for others? The band then shocked me even more by launching into Jumpin' Jack Flash. My short video demonstrated that by now the screen had reverted to full colour and the fans really loved this one, and the band then left the stage to much applause, as I braced myself for what I assumed would be a one song encore. They surprised me again by re-emerging to the strains of Gimme Shelter, which although quite serviceable is not a number I've ever felt any real fondness for, although I seemed to be in a minority here. I reckon if I had a guarantee that these extra hits weren't coming at the expense of the massive finale I could have chilled out and enjoyed it more. Protest videos, including black lives matter, featured heavily on the back screens, and Mick took to the catwalk with his female co-vocalist, and I think at this point the other guys joined in the fun by taking a catwalk stroll too, amid the inevitable return to black and white imagery. It was more like 11:20pm when the set drew to a close after the band launched into the extraordinary and legendary (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction. I can't believe that they used to open their sets with this monster hit, as it makes so much more sense as the big finale. The crowd clapped and sung and I shot a couple of videos, first capturing that riff, and also the band smiling and joking to give the impression that they enjoy performing this as much as we enjoy hearing it. Keith was wearing what looked to be a Jamaica flag coloured bandana and a black t-shirt strangely saying "T heart A". My final video featured the drawn-out ending of the crowd singing and Mick strutting some more to repeats of the riff, and then that was it, it was all over.

The band assembled for some group bows, and I quickly made my way to the back for a swift exit, stopping briefly to watch the short bout of fireworks that seemed a little bit too delayed from the end of the music. I passed guys selling dodgy posters, walking with tremendous speed to overtake other fans considerately and make my way back to the fast A train to the city centre. I felt pleased to beat the crowds then pissed off to discover my ticket didn't work, as La Défense was centimetres into Zone 3 despite the previous station being Zone 1. I thought at first that my ticket must have been broken, and was not at all impressed to have to join the queue, but fortunately most other fans were prepared and so the ticket machine queue was shortish, and I was delighted and surprised despite this unfortunate delay to jump on a train that was genuinely quiet, and with barely any crowds. I mean, what the hell? Is Paris really so efficient that the underground system could disperse the crowds without any strain? Or had I beaten the rest of the fans on the race from the stadium that effectively? Or had everyone else gone on the slower metro line instead? I have no idea, but I was delighted to get back so quickly and without any drama despite the late finish. Also the sophisticated Paris crowd weren't loudly singing on the way out but had exited in an orderly and calm manner, so this had been the polar opposite of the shit shows I've experienced a few times for large events at home. On the superfast double decker train I found time to make a few notes only, not having any opportunity to write them up until my holiday was done and dusted. Despite beating the crowds I had big plans to go to the smaller Walt Disney Studios resort the next day, and so was very keen for the earliest night possible. I also had to find the time to change hotels, originally planning to leave my suitcase then pick it up in the evening, but deciding instead to check out because I'd accidentally locked the safe and didn't want to encounter any fuss about that. A bit of a shame as the hotel had been so pleasant and helpful, although I kind of hope that they have a contingency plan to open it in such situations without having to bring in a safe cracker!

The rest of my weekend went like a dream, although having swapped around Disneyland from the start to the end of the week to get better weather it was frustrating that the next day was so foggy, but thankfully my day at Disneyland proper featured absolutely perfect photogenic blue skies! As I don't want this review to be bogged down by the sheer weight of unrelated holiday information I'll get back to the topic at hand, just as soon as I've offered a huge fuck you to the Eurostar tossers in Paris who ran the most shambolic and ridiculous check-in system imaginable on my return journey, which is unforgivable as they have the same number of passengers every day and must know exactly what is involved to process them all! Twats! Looking at other Rolling Stones setlists I can see they'd wheeled out Angie the night before, and tunes played on other nights of the tour include Under My Thumb, Let's Spend The Night Together, Get Off Of My Cloud and Rocks Off. If they'd dropped the dross and found space for these every night I think we'd all have been happier, although I must give credit to The Stones for delivering what for the most part was a hit strewn set. It is sad to think I may never get to hear Ruby Tuesday live, and I observe that The Last Time has only been performed a handful of times in 2012/2013, but otherwise was last a regular number way back in 1998. They'd played 14 out of 22 of the tracks on my personal Best Of compilation, which is great when I think about it, and even more so when the almost new Doom And Gloom is the next most critical omission I can mention. I would say though that it being the last night of the tour and getting to hear She's A Rainbow was such a joy that I wouldn't have traded this for any other show on the tour, which is in massive contrast to feeling fobbed off with a b-sides show in Hyde Park compared to the fans the night after who got all the triumphant hits I wanted to hear, and even the lesser choices like Emotional Rescue had been top notch on that night I missed out on. This hadn't been as good, but it had been well worth a repeat visit, although now I'm hearing word of the guys touring at home in 2018 I must say I hope they don't, as I would really love the privilege of being at their last ever gig, although I fear that they will just keep going until old age prevents them. So there it is, 200 concerts, and I hit the landmark in some style!
Setlist
Sympathy For The Devil
It's Only Rock 'N' Roll (But I Like It)
Tumbling Dice
Just Your Fool
Ride 'Em On Down
She's So Cold
She's A Rainbow
You Can't Always Get What You Want
Paint It Black
Honky Tonk Women
Happy
Slipping Away
Miss You
Midnight Rambler
Street Fighting Man
Start Me Up
Brown Sugar
Jumpin' Jack Flash
Gimme Shelter
(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction

Mark: 8.5/10