AC/DC · The Pretty Reckless

This is the show I'd been planning for the longest. I bought our tickets way ahead of time for an amount of money I'd rather not write down here, justified the line item, and then sat on it for months. Christmas morning, Preston opened a small envelope with two tickets in it — one for AC/DC, one for an Iron Maiden show down the line. AC/DC is Preston's favorite band, and it isn't even close. Second place isn't in the same room. I knew that if they ever toured North America again, I had to get him in front of them. And given everyone in that band's age and the amount of years between this and their last U.S. run, I figured this was probably the last legitimate chance. So we paid the freight. May 8 at Acrisure Stadium with Preston and Catrina — and worth every penny.

This wasn't my first time with AC/DC, either. I had seen them twice on the Razors Edge tour back in 1990–91 — once at the old Civic Arena in Pittsburgh, and again the following summer at Star Lake in Burgettstown. That's a long time between AC/DC shows. Some of my concerns coming in were honest ones — Brian Johnson is in his late 70s, Angus is in his 70s too, and there had been a lot of speculation about whether they could still pull off a stadium show. That speculation can get put to bed. They still bring it. Full stop.

The Pretty Reckless opened, fronted by Taylor Momsen, and they were a strong and well-chosen pairing. Nine songs — "Death by Rock and Roll," "Follow Me Down," "Witches Burn," "Make Me Wanna Die," "Going to Hell," and "Heaven Knows" all landed hard. Taylor's voice is huge, and the band has the kind of dirty hard-rock pulse that fits perfectly under an AC/DC headline. They got the stadium warmed up exactly the way an AC/DC opener should.

Then the lights dropped, the intro tape rolled, and AC/DC came out swinging with "If You Want Blood (You've Got It)" straight into "Back in Black." That's the kind of one-two opener that lets you know they have absolutely no intention of pacing themselves. From there it was hit after hit after hit: "Demon Fire" and "Shot in the Dark" from Power Up, then "Thunderstruck," "Hells Bells" (with the bell), "Highway to Hell," "Shoot to Thrill," "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap," "You Shook Me All Night Long," "Whole Lotta Rosie", "Let There Be Rock" with Angus's signature extended guitar solo (still walking out into the crowd, still doing the schoolboy uniform routine, still tossing the jacket and rolling on the floor at his age), "T.N.T.," and "For Those About to Rock" with the full cannon-and-fireworks closer. Twenty-two songs. No filler. The cannons fired. The fireworks went off. The stadium roared.

Brian Johnson sounded great. There were moments here and there where you could hear the years in his voice, but on the songs that matter — "Back in Black," "Highway to Hell," "Hells Bells," "You Shook Me All Night Long" — he was right there. Angus is still Angus. The schoolboy thing, the duck walk, the cherry SG, the marathon solo on "Let There Be Rock," all of it. Stevie Young on rhythm holds it all together. They are, against every reasonable expectation, still a great rock and roll band.

But the real moment of the night for me was just looking over at Preston. Watching your kid see his favorite band — his absolute favorite, the one he wears the shirts for, the one whose albums he knows back to front — for the first time, in a stadium, with both of his parents next to him, is one of those things that justifies whatever ticket price you ended up paying. He sang along to every word. He was there. We were all there.

If this is the last AC/DC tour, I am at peace with how I closed it out.