WHILE those other rock behemoths Spinal Tap have taken the non-labour intensive route with their One Night Only World Tour (that night being in London), there will be no sleep until the end of next year for AC/DC on their mammoth Black Ice tour, such
is the demand to see the Aussie rock'n'rollers.
Current album Black Ice broke records by debuting at number one in 29 countries, taking their album sales tally to 200 million and bucking the trend for falling CD sales – not bad for a band who refuse to issue greatest hits compilations and who have never evolved beyond their trademark caveman rock.
The album title was actually inspired by bitter winter gigs the band have played in Scotland over the years.
The sultry temperature at this sold out Hampden homecoming for the Scots-born Young brothers could not have been more of a contrast.
Even in their dotage, their goodtime rock'n'roll sounded fantastic, with Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be and the immortal Back In Black providing early high points.
Brian Johnson's voice is a raspy marvel – surely there cannot be enough cigarettes and sandpaper in the world? The bug-eyed frontman looked perpetually up to mischief as he skipped around the stage or dangled from the huge bell which tolled the introduction to Hell's Bells.
Not to be outdone, Angus Young – in his signature schoolboy uniform – chose bluesy swagger The Jack as the occasion for a striptease down to his customized boxer shorts. Brother Malcolm, bassist Cliff Williams and drummer Phil Rudd simply attended to the no-nonsense delivery of such lean, economical bruisers as Shot Down In Flames, TNT and the magnificent You Shook Me All Night Long.
Stagecraft was resolutely old school. An enormous inflatable doll straddled a massive model steam train for the duration of Whole Lotta Rosie, their subtle paean to the traditionally built woman – just what were they trying to say? – and a by now demented Angus was elevated on a hydraulic platform for some extended theatrical riffing on Let There Be Rock.
Their encore built on this self-fulfilling prophecy with a crowd-pleasing metallic burst of Loch Lomond and high voltage renditions of Highway To Hell and For Those About To Rock (We Salute You), which even managed to upstage their own closing pyrotechnics for sheer firepower.
