•
Rating: Tuesday, June 18th, around 11 AM, a phone call comes in: "Meco, there's a colleague of mine with an extra ticket for AC/DC, are you interested?"
You're there, at your desk, having resigned yourself months ago to not being able to see them, after waiting 10 years and millions of curses for failing to secure tickets, and now they're asking you if you want one... It takes a moment for your brain to process, but the rest of your body is already drowned in a vortex of adrenaline...
Wednesday, June 19th, 9:30 PM, the lights at Friuli Stadium go out, thousands of red horns flash all around, thousands of hands with their index and little fingers pointed towards the sky wave: let there be rock!
You're there in the middle, a few meters from the stage, you've slept for 3 and a half hours, traveled for 5 hours, and have been inside for 4 hours, but when the riff of "Rock N Roll Train" starts, all that matters is on that stage, the rest doesn't exist.
You don't care if after three songs you're sweaty as an eel, that sweat is pure distilled adrenaline, you don't care if your back is wrecked, you don't care if you're lacking personal space, you don't care if at times you struggle to even breathe, you don't care if your spleen hurts, if someone points out a pretty chick to you, you reply that at that moment you don't care about girls either.
You're at the AC/DC concert, the most badass and freakishly nasty band there is, there's nothing better, not even the best screw could compete, this is the greatest pleasure you can experience, it's an orgy involving 40,000 people.
There's the hell's bell, there's Rosie riding the rock and roll train, there's the highway to hell, not a bad place to be, there's a charge of dynamite just waiting to explode, there's a shaman celebrating mass in honor of rock, there are cannons thundering to mark the end of one of the most beautiful experiences of your life.
This is rock in its purest essence, ladies and gentlemen.
Loading comments slowly
