The Rolling Stones may be predictable after all these years, but their shows still are thrilling. Lead singer Mick Jagger, above, and guitarists Keith Richards, below, and Ron Wood, bottom, performed a 20-song concert Saturday at the MGM Grand Garden arena that had all the expected favorites and few surprises. The hard-rocking Queen of the Stone Age opened the show. Photos by Ralph Fountain.

The Rolling Stones have always held the answers to all of life's troubles, and by answers, I mean lots of growling guitars and a frontman fond of stuffing his mic down his trousers.

The band has become the musical equivalent of guzzling a 12-pack and belching all your problems away.

It's like Confucius once said, "Keep it simple, brah."

And that's why the Stones' appeal never seems to get old, even if the same can't be said of the band members.

Musing about the group's ability to still pack arenas is a bit like wondering why lovemaking is still en vogue after all these years.

Some thrills don't suffer from repetition, even when they're as predictable as Las Vegas weather.

The forecast for the evening: nothing but clear skies, with a good chance of some lusty Brits swiveling their hips in your girlfriend's direction.

Not that she'll mind. All taught stomachs and Tae--bo kicks, the Stones looked like the million bucks they probably were paid to play here.

"There's a lot of sharp angles up there," a guy next to me noted, commenting on the band's cut physiques.

There were plenty of sharp riffs, too, particularly in serrated blues stomper "Midnight Rambler," which the band teased out into a 10-minute come-on that ended as breathlessly as a one-night stand.

Of the Stones' 20-song set, eight of the tunes were different from when the group hit town in November, including a two-song suite that had guitarist Keith Richards taking center stage to croak through newer numbers, the dusky, bittersweet "This Place Is Empty" and the hard-swinging kiss-off "Happy."

For the most part, though, the show was filled with all the expected favorites and few surprises, save for late in the set, when a portion of the motorized stage moved out into the crowd toward the back of the arena.

There, the Stones serenaded the cheap seats -- although cheap probably isn't the operative word here, considering that even the most modestly priced tickets demanded that patrons choose between seeing the Stones or sending their kids to college.

But the band worked hard for the money.

Frontman Mick Jagger's voice never wavered, sounding as if it had been preserved in amber. He turns every song into an exhortation, a sweaty call to arms, even when he's singing about a no-good chick -- which is often.

But really, it's not what Jagger says but how he says it that makes folks clap their hands and stomp their feet, nudged along by Richards' sly licks, which are more limber than muscular.

Jagger could recite the warranty to your toaster oven, and thousands would cheer along.

And that's the Rolling Stones' defining trait: creating a mountain of sound out of a molehill of meaning.

But hey, there's no crime in refusing to overthink things, and no shame in giving people what they want.

But charging close to $500 a pop to do so? Well, now, that's another story.

In direct contrast to the Stones' straightforwardness, show opener Queen of the Stone Age is fond of cultivating an aura of mystique, refusing to answer even the most basic questions, like "How do a bunch of big, bad rock dudes with tattoos and such make heavy metal something that the hot blonde across the aisle can dance to?"

Frontman Josh Homme might be tight-lipped about the subject, but his guitar's definitely the chatty type, spilling its guts with Buick-sized power chords and one lickety split solo after the next.

The Queens have made former hallmarks of hard rock dweebdom fashionable, taking stentorian prog-metal rhythms, detached space-case vocals and super-duper hard-hitting drumming and giving it all a little swing.

They've become one of rock's most compelling contemporary acts, intermingling equally moody and menacing riff rock with martial funk that sounds like three bands playing at once.

Best of all, the band has helped reduce heavy rock's dude quotient, with a darkly seductive, sexually charged repertoire that's bringing more ladies to the table.

Finally, a chest-thumping hard rock band that gets some hips shaking along with all those fists.