To be honest, growing up I was never really a ‘died in the wall’ AC/DC fan. Although a regular down the local rock club, I always liked a few ballads on my rock ‘n’ Roll smorgasbord, and as any fan will tell you; DC don’t do ballads. I do own a good few albums though, and pranced around to many a hit during my days at college. What made this concert so special however, was that this time I was able to take my nine year old son along with me. Cai has been listening to an increasingly diverse range of music over the last year or so and I figured this would be an excellent addition to his musical education. Being old school, I was also fairly confident that bad language would be kept to a minimum. Needless to say he absolutely loved it, from the opening cartoon to the last, deafening rocket. I’m glad to report that short of one or two subtle (and one or two less than subtle) innuendos, I was also proved correct in my assumption about the language. Consummate professionals have no need to ‘F’ and ‘blind’ their way through a gig; their music does the talking for them.
Unfortunately however, this was all in stark contrast to some of the rubbish, laughably calling itself support. I’m not in the habit of naming names but I’m sorry to say their music was as pointless and appalling as their language. Thankfully Cai remained un-phased by it, wondering only why the automatic ‘beep’ didn’t cover up the swearing.