THE band from Sydney says it all.
In fact, AD/DC are the only band from Down South to have ever made an impact on the global charts. Dominating both the American and European markets with worldwide sales of 200 million to date, it is no wonder the electricfying rockers have plugged their fans over the years for good.
Pic shows Former vocalist Bon Scott (centre) pictured with guitarist Angus Young (left) and bassist Cliff Williams (back), performing at the Ulster Hall in August 1979.
Here's an article by the
Chicago Tribune on the band's gig at the Allstate Arena last night.
No gimmickry—just hard-driving music at its elemental best
The Allstate Arena was filled with fans wearing fluorescent devil's horns Thursday night.
It could only mean one thing: Angus and Malcolm Young and their fellow lovably ugly mugs in AC/DC were back in town for the first time in seven years.
The band, which returns Saturday for a second Allstate Arena show, delivered a celebration of all that is great about rock 'n' roll at its most defiantly elemental, as if the quintet had reduced the arena show to a ritual that could outlast time.
No mood lighting, no ballads, just a hot white glare under which Angus Young stripped out of his trademark schoolboy outfit and played his guitar like a kid equally enamored of Chuck Berry and the Chicago blues.
When he wasn't emulating Berry's duckwalk, he was lifting flamboyant riffs from Buddy Guy, and then tossing in his own roughhouse tone, abetted by a formidable wall of amplifiers. Malcolm Young literally had his brother's back, standing off Angus Young's right shoulder, his right leg twitching, his right hand unfailingly driving the band like a big machine locked in with bassist Cliff Williams and chain-smoking drummer Phil Rudd.
For AC/DC, hard-edged, no-frills rock 'n' roll is a family business. Before Angus and Malcolm picked up their guitars in earnest, their older brother George Young was scoring huge hits in Australia with his '60s garage band the Easybeats.
The Easybeats' quintessential song, "Friday on My Mind," is the key to understanding why AC/DC exists and why it endures: "Monday morning feels so bad/Everybody seems to nag me/Come on Tuesday I feel better/Even my old man looks good/Wednesday just won't go/Thursday goes too slow/I've got Friday on my mind."
By the time the song hits the chorus, the narrator is celebrating in the big city with a girl on his arm. This was shot-and-a-beer, blue-collar music, perfect for blowing off steam after a long week of picking up calluses at the factory.
AC/DC picked up on that impulse while touring the Australian bar scene of the mid-'70s, and added a dose of theatricality with Angus Young's leering schoolboy antics. The band's act hasn't changed much since; it has only gotten bigger, with 200 million records sold.
A simulation of a train wreck opened the show, pyro-punctuated "TNT," and singer Brian Johnson dangled from a giant funeral bell. Many of these moves, including Angus Young's half-Monty striptease during the burlesque blues of "The Jack," have been part of the band's set for decades.
These applause-getting gestures only served to reinforce the ritual power of a band that still sounds brutally loud, and pummels its audience with a smile. The 18-song concert depended primarily on the sheer force generated by two guitars, bass, drums and Johnson's screech. The songs have aged well, peerless celebrations of that "Friday on My Mind" sense of release from the everyday grind.
A handful of songs from "Black Ice" (the band's chart-topping new release) broke up a string of classics, mostly from the '70s. The only misstep was "Anything Goes," which demanded more melodic singing from Johnson than he was capable of delivering.Otherwise, there was no arguing with the sheer force of "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap," "Let There Be Rock," "Highway to Hell" and "Thunderstruck."
Johnson doesn't run around much, but he wiggles as he walks. This music has the essential roll in its hips, and we have Malcolm Young and his buddies in the rhythm section to thank for it. While Angus Young was out front sweating buckets for the arena's entertainment pleasure, the sullen, often overlooked back line was making everything swing like a wrecking ball.
