High voltage rock

My first brush or rather, taste of AC/DC’s music came during my secondary school days. At Bartley Secondary. This Australian metal band features Angus Young. He’s the one with the schoolboy uniform and shorts….

AC/DC’s line up features singer Brian Johnson, the one with the trademark cap pulled ever so low and that so unholy howl. Phil Rudd, the drummer with the get-outta-my-sight concentration, bassist Cliff Williams and Angus’s elder brother, rhythm guitarist Malcom Young. Of course, we musn’t forget Johnson’s predecessor, the late Bon Scott. The one with that high, screeching and sand-papered bark. In particular, I find Bon Scott pretty eerie with that wig and milkmaid’s dress. It was like seeing Norman Bates doing that Psycho thingie on stage. Alternatively, it was like a nympho Heidi from Hell.

Angus Young is sheer dynamite on stage. The school boy with that bookbag, the non-stop headbanging, the fiercesome guitar tantrum, that Chuck Berry duckwalk with his axe. Together with the band, the animal magnetism, they freaking hypnotize me. No doubt.

When AC/DC are in full throttle, it isn’t enough just to hear their brand of rock and roll. One just had to see them. The pandemonium on stage, ever pulverising their audience, the raw energy…. Let ‘em blow up your video. We know, amp blowing up, smashing your guitar and another and another. Straight up, no frills and no bullshit.