Angus Young, his shoulder-length hair now gray and failing to conceal a bald patch atop his head, spun on his back and kicked his legs like a child throwing a tantrum. Wearing his trademark schoolboy ...
No concept albums, disco-flavored single, grunge makeover, or virtue signaling. Just raw, stadium-filling songs about good times, hot gals and hotter hell, delivered with razor vocals, lightning ...
Precious few bands can fill a stadium 52 years into their career — let alone play to an audience heavily populated by parents and their children, both generations sporting red devil horn headbands and ...
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