AC/DC - Black Ice

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AC/DC
The Onspring/Queens Of The Stone Age/Megadeth
Milton Keynes Bowl
June 8, 2001

Set List: 'Stiff Upper Lip' /'You Shook Me All Night Long'/'Problem Child'/'Thunderstruck'/'Hell Ain't A Bad Place To Be'/'Hard As A Rock'/'Shoot To Thrill'/ 'Rock'n'Roll Ain't Noise Pollution'/'What Do You Do For Money Honey'/'Bad Boy Boogie'/'Hells Bells'/'Up To My Neck In You'/'The Jack'/'Back In Black'/'Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap'/'Highway To Hell'/'Whole Lotta Rosie'/'Let There Be Rock'/'TNT'/ 'For Those About To Rock'

THE BILL FOR THIS SHOW PRETTY MUCH runs the gamut of the rock music scene: effete metallers, pretenders to the cred- metal crown and the darlings of MTV - they're all here. After all, when you're invited to support AC/DC, you can only accept. But for some who'd RSVP'd with a yes, today may be a cruel awakening.

The sun has won its battle with the clouds, and Milton Keynes ain't a bad place to be. Megadeth trudge on and, as they tear into their relentless riffola, a core of their die-hard fans bounces around at the foot of the stage; the rest of the crowd is buying T- shirts, queuing for beer, finding the best vantage point from which to view the headliners later, and wondering if they'll open with 'You Shook Me All Night Long'. .,"

When Dave Mustaine eventually growls his goodbyes, the Bowl applauds politely and orders another pint.

Queens Of The Stone Age blow their wad prematurely, playing 'Feel Good Hit Of The Summer' and 'Lost Art Of Keeping A Secret' early on in their set. The crowd has bulked up, and there's some serious thrashing going on. But as the songs get longer and more jam-orientated, you'd swear the place had been crop-dusted with Rohypnol. Josh Homme scales his fretboard; people check their watches. Ex-Screaming Trees frontman Mark Lanegan adds some vocal muscle to the set, but the Queens' muse has got That Friday Feeling and slipped away. When Homme finally smashes his guitar against the cymbal stands, it's clear that his heart isn't in it, and this isn't how he imagined the day to turn out. If you didn't know better you'd say he was having a tantrum.

People are still streaming through the gates. A couple of tents have been erected on the sloping sides of the Bowl. A hail of plastic cups and bottles rains down on the people right in front of the stage.

This area has swollen more now, as those skate- rock kingpins The Offspring make their entrance. They elicit the most positive response thus far, mainly from the young kids in their Linkin Park T -shirts -and being held aloft on their dads' shoulders. The crowd undulates to the tune of 'Original Prankster', 'Ob-La- Di-Get-A-Job' and all the rest. But it's shocking that a band that appeals to the nu generation looks so, well, old. Dexter Holland's overgrown surfer act wears him -and me -out. Like Christmas, one for the kids. In fairness, The Offspring, The Queens and The 'Deth have all had one thing stacked against them. They've suffered as a result of one of the irrefutable laws of the universe: that is that rock'n'roll works best in the dark. For optimum results, live rock music ," should be lunar-powered, and lit in artificial greens, oranges and blues.

The sun is setting, and it's getting cold by the time the massive video screens framing the stage spark into life. There's a mass exodus from the slopes to the front of the stage. The cynical start to cheer; the drunk wake from their stupor and stagger to their feet. Thirty thousand people are all eyes and ears. A massive chord rings out, and AC/DC hit the stage. ..

Showtime. To the tune of 'Stiff Upper Lip', Brian -Johnson clutches his cap and scampers out across the long gantry between the stage and a spotlight rig and back again. "Holy shit, it's a long way out there lads," he gasps, in that breathless Geordie brogue.

AC/DC proceed with their standard crowd-pleasing set, but add a supercharged rendition of 'Problem Child' and 'Up To My Neck In You'. Johnson hits the helium highs -legs spread, all smiles. He's on form tonight, motioning towards the crowd, drawing their collective energy in for the band to feed off. Angus Young duck-walks, gurns and rattles off the riffs, his little legs shaking in their own time, his nimble left hand tearing up and down the fretboard. It's a big noise, powered by Malcolm and Cliff who keep the rhythm ticking engine-Iike. The pair stand almost flush to their amps; Phil is shrouded by cymbals. Not for them the spotlight.

Song after classic song, AC/DC spark with energyC' and strut with conviction, safe in the knowledge that their songs are seminal. Angus runs up to the lighting rig in the middle of the Bowl. A platform raises him high in the air; he falls on his side and runs in a circle on the floor, all the while playing lead lines. On the stage, Brian is standing next to Malcolm, rocking out Iand smiling like a kid. For the first time that day, the ,... band on stage is coherent -a unit.

Darkness has fallen, and lights are flooding the stage with colour. This well-honed engine is now in fifth gear and humming. 'Back In Black' kicks off and, of course, we're all theirs. And we're not cold any more. Looking around, you realise what abroad '" spectrum of fans AC/DC have. There are metalheads, and guys who have obviously been there from the start, but then there are people would look more at home at a Pulp gig.

The Angus statue breathes out smoke, eyes shining brightly. When 'Whole Lotta Rosie' pipes up, a. huge inflatable lady writhes besides it. Yes, it's a bit . silly, but it's also a lot fun. Best of all, the gang of nu kids nearby who had sung along with The Offspring are now jumping up and down with a wild glint in their eyes. You get the wonderful impression that, after years of grazing on MTV's bland fodder, they're finally experiencing an authentic rock'n'roll band.

Lunar-powered, and with their six cannons blasting,i". AC/DC salute us for having rocked. Fireworks decorate the night sky, and the band says goodnight to a Bowlful of happy people. To them, it's just another day at the office.

Grant Moon

Stiff Upper Lip Tour Special