There came a moment, after three songs of the Stones' set, where four men brought it all back to the beginning.

“We’re going to play some blues for you,” Mick Jagger declared, preceding a tribute to the force that brought them together – teenagers once again simply paying tribute to their heroes. Except they’re doing it in front of eighty-odd thousand with a huge production in one of Europe’s largest stadiums.

Such is the inherent contradiction of seeing the Stones in 2018. It’s so easy to be cynical about the band’s combined age (296, if you’re counting) and their morphing from icons of '60s rebellion to relentless commercial machine selling hoodies at eighty quid a pop – but once Mick Jagger is on stage, his glittery ringmaster’s coat may as well be a magician’s cape.

“Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste,” he grins, weaving a spell on us with one slink of the hips, one vital yelp, one strut down the catwalk – suddenly, somehow this is still one of the best rock shows around.

The magic takes some time to come into full effect – ‘Sympathy For The Devil’ would be a fine opener but it feels wasted with the sun still up, behind-stage pyros emitting barely-visible smoke, crowd not totally behind the “ooh-oohs” just yet. The big screens soon turned monochrome for ‘Paint It Black’ as the atmosphere settled.

“We tried learning 'Whiskey In The Jar', but it didn’t quite work out,” Jagger teased before a rousing ‘Wild Horses’, in the set after a fan vote.

We’re fully under by the time darkness falls and ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ rolls around, its unfortunate Trump connotations cast off as Jagger demands that we sing – and of course we do, stadium coming together in full voice for the first time.

The population of Termonfeckin could fit into Croke Park 50 times over, but it got a nod from Jagger, who displayed his winking, knowing, tongue-in cheek stagecraft throughout, and so too did Dublin’s favourite delicacy, the spice bag – apparently the four shared one after a night on the razz in Temple Bar.

Jagger ain’t the only show in town though – Ronnie Wood is irrepressible throughout, covering an amazing amount of ground for someone who lost half a lung to cancer last year, and dazzling in some impressively sparkly converse.

Keith Richards may not be as mobile and his iconic headband may now hold back a shock of white hair, but his grace and instinctive guitar playing are striking. Behind them, drummer Charlie Watts is business as usual and seems taken aback by the fuss during the band introductions.

Richards recovered from a shaky start to sound in fine fettle on vocals on ‘Before They Make You Run’ and ‘The Worst’, marking a natural midpoint in the set before the closing cavalcade of hits – ‘Start Me Up’ and ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’ have the stadium swinging, and main set closer ‘Brown Sugar’ is as evocative and sleazy as ever.

And then the encore; oh what an encore. When you can close with this pair it doesn’t matter how old you are. With visuals evoking the political turmoil of the civil rights movement, backing singer Sasha Allen took centre stage with Jagger for an awesome ‘Gimme Shelter’.

Then, to close, a 53-year-old riff that will never lose the battle with time – ‘(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction’ had the crowd jumping, defying their age as much as those on stage.

Sometimes cultural influence can diminish older art’s impact for a modern audience - it’s hard to be blown away by The Shining when every horror film following it so heavily borrows from it. It’s testament to the power of the Stones, both as performers and songwriters, that they can escape such a fate and still weave their magic.