Brian Johnson of AC/DC performing at Madison Square Garden, 8/25/00 Photo by Spyder Darling © 2000 NY Rock

Brian, Angus and co. are trotting round the globe for the first time in five years in support of their new CD, Stiff Upper Lip. And to the roaring approval of the thousands rallied for the evening's ear-bleeding antics, the new music sounds exactly like AC/DC's dozen other albums, striking like a thunderbolt to the throat of "Kid Bizkit" and all the other so called bad asses in K-rock land.

Unlike fellow hard rock dinosaurs Aerosmith, and much to AC/DC's credit, they've come back to the big rooms without the help of hired songwriters, putrid power ballads or celebrity daughters who get their dad's band on their movie soundtracks. Liv may star in daddy Steven Tyler's videos, but you know it's "Back in Black" she cranks up when she feels like trashing her trailer. Stiff Upper Lip, the CD, delivers everything the faithful expect of AC/DC: sledgehammer guitars, freight-train rhythms, Drano-drenched vocals, and lager-soaked lyrics totally unconcerned with anything more socially relevant than the unstoppable power of rock 'n' roll. And "Stiff Upper Lip," the tour, is as explosive a showcase of AC/DC's heat-seeking hits and lead guitarist Angus Young's epileptic stage presence as any concert the band has done since Jimmy Carter was president. If the Madison Square Garden show was any indication, AC/DC will be keeping eardrums ringing and head-bangers grinning for many years to come.

Giving their fans what they want is one thing AC/DC have always prided themselves on and the Stiff Upper Lip tour is no exception. The set list recalls both classic and obscure gems from AC/DC's quarter-century career. Early anthems like "TNT," "Whole Lotta Rosie" and "Highway to Hell," originally sung by the late and much beloved Bon Scott, still proudly stand the test of time. And when singer Brian Johnson (he's only had the job for twenty years, but to many, he'll always be the new guy) belts out "Rock 'n' Roll Ain't Noise Pollution," "Shoot to Thrill," and the title track from AC/DC's ten times platinum Back in Black album, the show kicks into true maximum overdrive. Some in the crowd were convulsing like they'd had a live wire jammed up their butts, others pumped their fists in cathartic fits (or rock 'n' roll ecstasy), and more than a few like myself ricocheted back and forth between their seats, the restroom, and the beer vendors. But no one stood still longer for the time it takes to yell ANNGGGUUUUSSSSS!

Brian Johnson and Angus Young at Madison Square Garden, 8/25/00 Photo by Spyder Darling © 2000 NY Rock

I first saw AC/DC twenty years ago at the Spectrum in Philadelphia on the "For Those About to Rock" tour. It was the first time I ever felt old at a show. I was 19 and a sophomore in college and the rest of the crowd looked like they were in tenth grade. There weren't many high school kids at Madison Square Garden last week. The average age looked to be about 35. And not a pretty, salon-manicured 35, but a split-knuckled, tattooed, greasy-haired middle age that comes from a lifetime dedicated to the pill-popping, whore-hopping pursuit of cheap thrills and even cheaper drinks. It's a dirty-deeds life and who better than AC/DC to provide the background music.

Meanwhile, back on stage, the Garden show was nearly the same as the one I saw back when Ronald Reagan had just taken office in 1988 (the "Who Made Who" tour). I think rhythm guitar God Malcolm Young may even have been wearing the same pair of pants for all three junkets. Such is the invincible value of a good pair of jeans as well as the relentlessly rehearsed 12-bar blues from a Gibson SG guitar through a wall of Marshall amplifiers.

AC/DC's latest go round is of course sprinkled with a few newer songs like "Hard as a Rock," "Thunderstruck" and "Satellite Blues" (which despite a dozen listens, I still haven't a clue what it's about), but clearly the band knows it's the older songs the fans are paying fifty bucks a seat to hear and they make damn sure the set is peppered with enough oldies like "The Jack," "Shot Down in Flames" and "Let There Be Rock" to keep even the most cynical resident of Sin City satisfied.

Though one slightly disappointing moment occurred during Angus's famous striptease at the end of "Bad Boy Boogie," when he dropped his shorts but was wearing blue boxers instead of flashing his traditional "full moon" at the crowd. Maybe Mr. Young was warned about Mayor Guliani's "quality of life" mandate and didn't want to spend the group's one night in New York City at the 38th Precinct. But if the worst thing you can say about a concert is that you didn't get to see the guitar player's ass, you know the band's doing more than a few things right.

It has been said that only cockroaches and Cher would survive a nuclear attack. Judging by AC/DC's "Stiff Upper Lip" tour, I believe they now will survive the next big bang as well. Which is good news for the roaches, who will at last have some decent music to listen to when the smoke clears and the emergency generators kick in.