In secondary school one of my biggest fears was that, one day, the bogans would breed. Watching the fans for tonight’s AC/DC concert thronging through Wellington this afternoon it was clear that fear had been realised.
Although, looking at the aging Metallers – black jeans, balding, beer bellied – and their pale pimply offspring, as they took in the sights of the big city, fathers and sons wearing the same T-Shirts, I figured maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.
Which isn’t to say mobs of AC/DC fans are pretty. They’re not. Although, I can’t claim the high ground really. I was one of them once. Camouflaged in a black jersey, in the audience when they played Athletic Park. I think it was the last ever concert allowed there. After the fans rioted through Berhampore musical events where forever banned. Somewhere as a souvenir I still have one of these.
[Update: sometime between 8 and 9pm last night one of the local bogans started cranking AC/DC on their stereo. Fair enough I thought, if you can’t make the concert, make your own. About an hour later, and starting to get annoyed, I wandered outside to see just which bogan it was. Only to discover that the noise was emitting from behind the hills, from the city itself. Suspicious I drove up above the hockey grounds behind Newtown. Sure enough, that wasn’t a bogan with a stereo. What I’d been hearing was the concert ! On the hill behind the hockey grounds there was a small group of fans standing listening. Even in Island Bay it was loud enough to make out what songs they were playing! Have a look on the map.]
[Update two: It strikes me that, with their dopey play-on-words-about-sex lyrics and big guitar chops, AC/DC are a pretty bad band. However, they’re also as good as a bad band could ever possibly be. Which, oddly enough, means they’re still pretty good.]
[Update three: and this morning the city (or my part of it at least) is shrouded in mist, as if the hungover sky had pulled the curtains, so it could have a quiet little lie-in.]