It’s unmistakably The Rolling Stones as we know and love them, down to the last chopped rhythm of Keith Richards’ telecaster, Charlie Watts’ snare crack and the mannered tics of Sir Mick’s white boy blues croak. Like The Ruttles’ clever pastiches of Beatles classics, the Stones appear to have perfected the art of parodying themselves to a point where you wonder if they might be having a laugh.