... we can smell you!
Holy mother of god. What a night. Imagine being at a gym with 60,000 hot, sweaty people. The air thick with humidity and BO.
That was Monday night at ANZ Stadium at the AC/DC concert.
I'm not sure what I was expecting but I think the sheer physical discomfort of the heat and the awful suffocating smell probably made me more critical than I may otherwise have been.
Strangely I couldn't really get into the breast flashing which is (apparently) the tradition during She's Got The Jack. I didn't enjoy Angus Young's recipracol striptese; he is, after all, the Mr Bean of rock'n'roll. Call me fussy but I don't get my jollys from watching an almost 60 year old skinny unattractive bloke taking it off. Do us all a favour and put it back on and throw in a paper bag over the head while you're at it, buddy.
Furthermore I hate solos: guitar solos, drum solos, any sort of solos. So Angus' 20+ minute guitar wank didn't ring my bell. I found it quite sickening actually. Shut up already.
The highlight for me was She Shook Me All Night Long, which I think is sexy piece of raunch rock, that's for sure. The lack of It's A Long Way To Shop If You Want A Sausage Roll was a huge disappointment.
Anyway, I'm glad I went. I can tick ACCADACCA of my list of bands to see and go to my grave having no desire to ever see them again.
In a week of musical extremes we have George Michael on Friday night. Don't forget to wake me up before you go go...