By PATRICK DONOVAN
Tuesday 13 February 2001

AC/DC shows have a peculiar, feverish effect on Melbourne rock fans, and the atmosphere outside the Rod Laver Arena on Sunday night resembled that of a grand final. Only everyone there was barracking for the same team - rock.

One fan, Josh Retreat, had flown in from Seattle and was proudly showing off his school blazer covered in AC/DC badges and freshly shaved head revealing the band's logo.

Three Japanese guys, with home-sewn burgundy velvet Angus Young school uniforms, were head-banging in front of the steps to Hell's Bells with bikie types.

Their songs even blared out of the speakers during an afternoon session at the St Kilda bowling greens, just around the corner from where the band wrote many of their best tunes.

It was promising to see plenty of support for the curtain raiser, local trio The Living End, whose rock anthems and widespread popularity made them the perfect support act.

They knew it could have been a tough crowd and they played their hearts out. Scott Owen spun on his double bass and singer/guitarist Chris Cheney used every metre of the massive stage; boy, he must have been dying to run down Angus Young's catwalk. One day, Chris.

The crowd sung every word to their hit Prisoner of Society , which must put them in contention as possible future heirs to the AC/DC throne.

Usually, stadium shows are the domain of dinosaur rockers or big stars, without the intimacy. But while AC/DC have been around for an eternity, they still produce great albums and are about as likely to succumb to a symphony orchestra gig as playing on John Farnham's next tour.

There hasn't been this much jubilation or worship since Fatboy Slim's 1999 rafters-shaking performance at the Metro.

The two-hour greatest-hits set was all killer, no filler. Spanning their career, it opened with the bar-room classic You Shook Me All Night Long, back-tracking to old chestnuts such as Hell Ain't a Bad Place to Be, and including their latest hit, Stiff Upper Lip .

Their songs speak of their years on the road as a rock'n'roll band, and they seemed to revel in Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap and Sin City , in all likelihood, paeans to their years living in St Kilda. Other songs were full of sexual innuendo, like when Brian Johnson sings, "I've got a stiff ... upper lip", and Hard as a Rock, grabbing his crotch, all the while pouncing around like a boxer.

In addition to the regular props, the cannons, which exploded in a storm of confetti during For those about to Rock , the huge bell and giant inflatable Rosie doll, the band were dwarfed by a giant bronze Angus Young statue with an Australian flag and glowing eyes that emitted smoke.

The return of early member Phil Rudd gave the band extra swing; his playing appears solid yet basic, but particularly his use of symbols perfectly accentuates "Mr Rhythm" Malcolm Young's playing.

Brian Johnson is no Bon Scott or Robert Plant, and his screeching vocals are sounding a little strained, and he really didn't need to introduce most songs; Malcolm or Angus' riffs say it all.

But there is no doubt who the real star is. The Riff King, Angus Young, darts around the stage, duck walking, doing the rooster, strip teasing and drenched in sweat.

At most gigs, his 12-minute solo during Let There Be Rock would have been self-indulgent and boring, but his scintillating blues riffs, which climax in the ultimate guitar orgasm, are awe-inspiring, in the vein of Jimmy Page. He doesn't miss a note, even while playing one-handed or having a rock seizure on his back.

Rock bands and music fads come and go, but AC/DC float by unaffected in their own child-like bubble. Their line "rock and roll will never die", from Rock'n'roll ain't Noise Pollution , means more than ever in the current musical environment. But it is in safe hands because DJ Fatboy Slim was playing records and twiddling a few knobs, while these five guys played their scrawny white arses off as hell broke loose around them.

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Stiff Upper Lip Tour Special