RIGHT CROSS (Malcolm Young, R.I.P.)

It’s a little hard for a non-musician to say exactly what a rhythm guitarist adds to a rock and roll band but I’ve always assumed it had something to do with providing, you know, the rhythm.

If that’s true then few people have ever been a more hard core rock and roller than AC/DC’s Malcolm Young, who just passed away, twelve days after his older brother (and original producer), George, and three years after he retired from the band he founded with another brother, Angus, in the early seventies, as a result of complications due to early stage dementia. Because, before and after they were anything else, AC/DC were rhythm, rhythm, and more rhythm.

Yes, they wrote songs, including fifteen or twenty that became permanent radio staples and Malcolm had a strong hand it that, too. I suspect on some level, he played a role similar to John Entwistle’s in the Who–the steady hand, who took care of basic business, musically and otherwise, giving the more flamboyant personalities (in AC/DC, the head-banging, road-running, rhythm-rhythm-rhythm Angus, and the powerhouse rhythm-rhythm-rhythm lead singers Bon Scott and Brian Johnson) room to roam.

Unlike the punks who rose beside them or the death metal bands who sprang up in their wake (and often cited AC/DC as an influence), the Young brothers knew there was more to rhythm–and hence to the “rock and roll” they always insisted was a good enough description of what they did when anybody bothered to ask–than just playing loud, fast and primitive. Yes, they rocked–and rocked and rocked and rocked. But they never forgot to roll. Which is why they were a truly great band and also why they blasted out of more radios than all the punk and death metal bands combined back when rock and roll on the radio was still the common coin of the culture.

I suspect their “rhythm” guitarist had something to do with that, as well.

Malcolm Young and his band knew who they were, they kept on being who they were come hell or high water and they never quit or tried to be anyone else.

Very few of us get to pass to the next stage knowing we managed all that.

I hope the final highway led some place other than Hell, but, if not, at least Malcolm Young will be one of the very few who reach the last stop with his eyes wide open.

 

OUR MAN WITH THE BEAT DOWN UNDER (George Young, R.I.P.)

Australian rock and roll wasn’t really a thing until George Young and his fellow guitarist–and destined-to-be-musical-partner-for-life–Harry Vanda, wrote “Friday On My Mind” for their band the Easybeats. In the five decades since, Aussie rock and roll has never not been a thing, having been kept alive by many (including the vastly undersung Easybeats themselves) and at the forefront by Young’s younger brothers, who started a little band called AC/DC, for whom George produced the early albums that put them on the map.

His career had a theme, then, and that theme was Stomp. He was as much a pure rock and roller as Fats Domino, whose death, within twenty-four hours, was understandably bound to overshadow any but a fellow giant’s.

I can’t call George Young a giant–but he was an essential figure in the spread of rock and roll across the world and left behind a body of work us mere mortals can certainly envy.

And as long as there’s a Friday somewhere….