AC/DC
A review of their concert in Oberhausen, Germany, June 13 2003
AC/DC, we salute you. Yes, you may not have produced anything new since your
first album decades ago but we don't know you as any kind of U2. You know your
strengths so well and You Shook Us All Evening Long. 
It
was a smart move, the Rolling Stones
bringing in the Cranberries and AC/DC to support them on their over-priced
European shows. All dates are now sold out and there's plenty at the gates
tonight holding placards that beg a ticket going spare. Interestingly though a
good percentage of the shirts and leathers pay homage not to the Stones but to
the just-slightly younger rockers on the bill, AC/DC.
Twenty five past seven, a blazingly hot summer evening and it gets a lot hotter
when a mature schoolboy cuts the opening riff on 'Highway to Hell'. If anyone
writes a better riff than the Young brothers, come tell me about it. Put those
thrilling riffs down with Brian Johnson's mean, sleazy vocals and 'If You Want
Rock, You Got It'. Tonight we got hits, loads of them. 'Back In Black' is the
most utilised album on the night, with its title track coming keen and mean in
the first part of the show to make way for a drawn-out 'You Shook Me All Night
Long' and less studied takes of 'Whole Lotta Rosie' and 'Dirty Deeds' in the
second part of the show.
AC/DC's mammoth power-chord roar, one of the most influential hard rock sounds
of the '70s, was almost a punk reaction against the art rocking Pink Floyds and
body wave-ing Whitesnakes of their early '70s heyday. AC/DC's rock is minimalist
- no matter how huge and bludgeoning the guitar chords, there's a clear sense of
space and restraint - and consequently a harder edge to the playing. This is
where the band's legions of professional admirers - many of them too precious to
acknowledge the debt - have been unable to follow. To paraphrase Van Morrison's
bitter words, if AC/DC was a gunslinger, there'd be a lot of dead copycats in
town.
The band has a great bag of hits from which to play out of - and few weak tunes
in its entire canon - but AC/DC relies on the charisma and playing of Angus
Young for its fuel. Mouth open, shaking, bopping and clowing, the man takes a
steel grip on the audience's attention. The 1973-Sydney-formed outfit put
together by older brother Malcolm would be a much more ordinary act without
Angus Young's energy, tearing about the stage wearing his trademark black Gibson
and the cheeky school uniform he's worn since he joined the band at 15 years
old.
The double entendres sound cruder than ever but Brian Johnson by contrast to his
stage-mate looks like a man out of steam. Vocal quality is still high but he's
heaving and dragging himself about the stage like an old bull. That's hard to
watch next to Angus's kicking, prancing, running and wild gesticulating. Johnson
gives in eventually and just stands as the audience does to gape at Young's
awesome mix of showmanship and guitar talent. Angus wrung everything out of the
encore, 'For Those About to Rock? We Salute You' as two very real looking canon
on either side of the stage blasted out a dozen booming shots. There was no need
to stress the point.
AC/DC, you stole the show.
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