By MIKE WEATHERFORD
LAS VEGAS REVIEW-JOURNAL
OK, ladies and some gents, qualified good news: You only have to wait a half-hour for Billy Idol to take his shirt off.
Alas, it’s just a tease. The once-and-future chest-bearer turns his back on you and not only puts his jacket back on, but — after a theatrical stage grunt to accompany a brief flash of the still-taut abs — straps on an acoustic guitar to conceal them.
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