Mr Know-it-All

air guitar championships

Katie, the hard-working media expert from the Fremantle Arts Centre, has somehow managed to convince the WA Chapter of the Air-Guitar Championships that I would be a good celebrity judge for their state final in a couple of weeks.

The winner, as judged by me (and some other minor experts) will be heading to Darwin to compete in “The Nationals”. Hence their slogan: “It’s a long way to the TOP (END) if you wanna rock n roll” (don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with it).

What’s more, rumour has it that the West’s best vapour-strummer will be invited to perform his (or her?!) fave AC/DC song at the launch of the Bon Scott Project in May!

Stay tuned for all the finer details. And, ahem…can anybody point me towards some criteria for good air-guitar method?

Butt-head Science

graphical representations of pop songs

By now, “graphical representations of pop songs” like the one above have probably already weaseled their way past your spam filter and into your inbox, together with viagra and fake rolex watches and whatnot. I was sent a half a dozen or so of them from my friend Chris-O, who is obviously spending a few too many hours procrastinating from his thesis about the withdrawal symptoms of methamphetamine.

Someone has kindly uploaded ’em all over here. And if rap is more your thing, you might find these mildly amusing. But whoa, google around a little more and you find hundreds of the little critters. Phew. I think I was happier when I thought there were only six.
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The Mighty Blues

tice and evans at the sando
[Dave Tice with the funny-lookin’ red guitar, and Mark Evans on the right…]

Fans all over the world salivate over the tiniest scraps of information which occasionally filter through from AC/DC’s management. But the current band members live extremely private lives, subject to speculation of all sorts (will they ever complete a new album? will they ever tour again? do they ever rehearse together these days?).

But how many people are aware of this fact: Mark Evans, former AC/DC bass player, not only performs in an intimate setting every single Saturday afternoon, but if you’re lucky, you might even get to share a beer with him?

Last week, after hitting the second hand record stalls at the flea market, I went down to the Sandringham Hotel in Newtown to see him in action.
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We are Family

bon lovechild

Holy Matrimony! Bon’s lovechildren are a-comin’ out of the woodwork. The latest is this fella, Aussie actor Alex O’Loughlin. Here’s the story, lifted from the ever-reliable news dot com dot au:

The Oyster Farmer star — who recently joined the cast of US cop drama The Shield – has revealed he’s the son of late AC/DC frontman Ronald “Bon” Scott, according to the World Entertainment News Network.

And while Confidential yesterday contacted both the Sydney and LA-based agents of 29-year-old O’Loughlin, neither was able to confirm the bizarre claim, which first appeared in the Chicago Tribune last week.

O’Loughlin – currently dating fellow Aussie hottie Holly Valance – was also out of reach, in Canada to film thriller Whiteout alongside Kate Beckinsale.

The NIDA-trained actor, who was tested for the role of James Bond in the latest instalment, Casino Royale, before it went to Daniel Craig, was born in 1977 at the height of Scott’s fame as AC/DC’s hard man of rock ‘n’ roll – three years before the rocker died in London in February 1980.

ben scottIn the meantime, the Bon Scott Blog’s original and favourite lovechild candidate (although one lovechild does not rule out another, of course) BEN SCOTT has begun an online petition to help promote his cause.

He wants the supreme court to grant him access to Bon’s DNA so that science can prevail, and it can be proven one way or another.

I really don’t know how these things work, where any of Bon’s DNA might still be lurking, or how they match up these things…but ours is not to reason why, ours is just to sign online petitions, right? OK, off you go then.

(Oh, and thanks to my brother Josh for keeping an ever-vigilant eye on the world wide web. He sent me the above news story about Alex O’Loughlin. What are family for, eh?)

Hits and Memories

album covers

Saturday morning found me in Rozelle, a suburb of Sydney famous for its fleamarket. Lizzie was on the lookout for a mirror for her room. I didn’t really have anything in particular to search for, except a ceramic butter dish, which we’ve been hunting for ages (those things are rare!) So I just nosed around half-heartedly, while Lizzie tried on some jeans.

Since I started the Bon Scott Blog, I have been flipping through records at second hand shops, not in any disciplined way, just “on the off chance something might come up”. It never does. Somehow I get the impression that, like Stevo the collector, AC/DC fans keep a firm grip on their old vinyl.

So at Rozelle, of course, there were a few record stalls, and of course I had a shuffle through the boxes. As expected, no AC/DC. But I did start to turn up some records that were circulating around the time Bon joined the band and they started to have success…
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“A door is either open or shut.”

dave aston album cover

For some weeks I have been meaning to post a blog entry about “quality” in the music of AC/DC. But it’s not ready yet.

In the meantime, I want to point to something written by Sydney musician (and 1980s Holden Commodore Station Wagon enthusiast) Dave Aston. Dave is probably best known to local music fans from his work with bands Trout Fishing in Quebec, and Dave Aston and the Spanish Authorities. He plays the drums. I seem to remember, from the few gigs I attended, that these featured sprawling funky lineups – many personnel playing at once. And no lyrics, just instrumental jamming. And they were amazingly “tight”. I mean, 11 people on stage at once and they all manage to stop or start simultaneously.

Looking at this entry on Dave’s blog, it seems this is no accident – it’s something he thinks about a lot. It’s Dave’s opinion that AC/DC are generally misunderstood. Their music is regarded as “easy”, and yet there is an ineffable “something” which makes it so crisp and compelling to listen to. It’s the timing:

It is one thing to write, and rehearse, and execute popular music. But, even when learnt, the very best transcend the note values, and move into the realm of milliseconds, where everything is executed as close as possible to where the time is, without the aid of a click track. Of course, as we are not machines, theoretically we cannot play with absolute mechanical precision. […But when it’s done right] it’s as if the execution is so good, that the listener doesn’t understand the effect that it is having on them […]

So, next time you hear someone say that AC DC’s music is easy, and it may be easy to learn the melodies, and beats, and basslines, ask why the covers band playing Highway To Hell doesn’t sound as sweet as the real thing. The difference may not be that the guitarist can’t play solos like Angus Young. It’s more likely, as with the 50,000,000,000,000 original bands that have tried to sound like them, that they just don’t have the touch, the discipline, the concentration and attention to detail, and the soul.

AC DC are the loudest funk band on earth. A door is either open or shut. But, if you close it half way, and then halve that distance, and halve it again, you’ll never actually close it. I guess having it closed is a computer, or the mechanical, and getting it as close to closed as is possible for humans is someone like AC DC, those great Australian exponents of soul music.

Best Roadie Ever

darcy and gabby
[Darcy and Gabby at home in Warburton, Victoria…]

Our last port of call in Victoria was Warburton, out in the Yarra Valley. Katie and I hired a car. We hacked our way through a lot of seriously un-picturesque suburbs before bursting into the lush valley. It was a great relief after the heat and the endless din of the Melbourne Grand Prix to feel a light breeze, to hear cicadas in the trees.

But we didn’t really hear any cicadas til after we arrived. For the drive, I’d brought a few AC/DC albums to get us in the mood. I put on “Let There Be Rock” and we drummed on the dashboard (Katie) and the steering wheel (me) all the way to Warburton. We were going to meet a real rock-n-roll roadie…
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Bon’s Web Walk

I’ve got one more story to post from Melbourne – about a trip to visit Bon’s loyal roadie Darcy in the Yarra Valley. It’s just in with the experts for “fact checking” before it goes live, but while we wait, lets think a little about writing technologies, shall we?

Bon wrote a shitload of letters. We must remember, kiddies, that in the 1970s there was no internet. There was no email. There were no blogs. If Bon were travelling the world playing gigs today, would he still send letters?

Would he run his own blog? (Now THAT would be something.) Would he, perchance, have his own webcam TV show, or a whacky Alice Cooper or Bob Dylan style radio broadcast? Or be the star of his own Osbournes reality TV show?

Speaking of reality TV …over at the Bon Scott Club (a yahoo group dedicated to keeping Bon’s hell-raising spirit alive forever), the fans are playing a game inspired by those “vote em off” shows, called “AC/DC Song Survivor”.
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More radio shenanigans…

Last week Sydney DJ Philippe Perez invited me to join him on Radio 2SER to talk about the Bon Scott Blog. In a rambling interview, we discuss AC/DC fandom, the bronze statue in Fremantle, and my own blogging process.

At the end of the interview, I get all frothed up about Let There Be Rock and we play that song on air… I wish you could have seen us air guitaring in the studio…

(In this version of the interview, the song fades out just after the opening chords. I’ll try to get a longer version online soon which includes the whole song for your listening pleasure!)

Anyway, the mp3 file is here. It goes for about 15minutes, and is 15mb in size…

Doodles on Envelopes

mary with stained shirt
[Mary, one of Bon’s closest friends, shows us a shirt he posted her in the late 1970s, complete with perfectly preserved stain running down the front…]

It was forty degrees in Melbourne and the Grand Prix was on. The Formula One racing cars sounded like angry flies. I guess they were “warming up” for the big race on Sunday. We couldn’t see them, but the noise cut through the thick air. Katie and I hopped off the tram at the wrong stop. In this heat, the prospect of walking four blocks to Mary’s house in St Kilda seemed a bit much. We were still dragging our suitcases behind us. Why didn’t we just take a cab?

Mary is one of Bon’s oldest and most loyal friends. They first met when he was still playing with The Valentines, in the late 1960s. Apparently, at one Valentines gig, Bon invented some pretext to speak with her. (I am coming to understand he was good at inventing pretexts to speak with girls.)
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