Speaking of Keef, he’s always been the outlier in the band and today that’s unmistakable. While his bandmates Wood, Jagger and Watts are in smart Savile Row gear, looking sharp, Richards is dressed for the street in dark jeans, a leather jacket and a Bob Marley T-shirt, a lengthy black-and-white scarf wrapped around his wrist. A lit ciggie dangles from his lips. Richards’ look is equal parts pirate and rebellious 53-year-old rocker.

Jagger plays to the audience. When asked why they’d chosen to launch the tour in New York, he flashes his Cheshire-cat grin and says, “Because you’re the best press in the world.” Richards opts to be more reflective. When called on to describe the chemistry between drummer Watts and newish bassist Darryl Jones, Keith looks to the heavens and replies: “It’s a bit hydrogen, a bit oxygen.”

What about the skull ring he wears? What’s the meaning of that? “Beauty is skin-deep, baby. This is what we all really look like,” offers the man known as the Human Riff. And how about his songs, which he sometimes called his “babies” – how does he come to write them? “You don’t write them,” Richards explains, sort of. “They come to you. It’s a thing you gotta do. You receive. You transmit.”

Barely 15 minutes in and it’s all over. The Stones smile, wave, climb back into their Caddy and return to the road, where they now appear poised to return, some 26 years on, albeit without the late, great Charlie Watts.

Oh, and by the way, during the entire press conference, Charlie utters just one word: “Yeah.”

Jeff Apter’s latest book is Don’t Dream It’s Over: The Remarkable Life of Neil Finn.