“But, beyond the spectacle, we come to admire the unlikely persistence of the Stones, an entity nearly half a century old, chugging comically, determinedly on. The lads are approaching seventy. Pruney, dyed, and boney, they storm through a set list that is by now as venerable and unchanging as the Diabelli Variations. ‘You do, occasionally, just look at your feet and think, This is the same old shit every night,’ Richards has said, and yet he goes on playing and the crowds go on paying, reluctant to give it up, the last link to glory days.”
– David Remnick, The New Yorker, Nov. 1, 2010