AC/DC Shake Melbourne: Angus Young, 70, Duck-Walks Into Rock History at the MCG – November 2025
The build-up to AC/DC’s November 2025 return to Melbourne was unmistakable. Days before the show, the city was already buzzing, but nothing captured attention like the massive gathering of hundreds of bagpipers performing “It’s a Long Way to the Top” in the heart of the city. Spanning multiple generations, the players created a spectacle that felt historic, a symbolic warm-up for what everyone knew would be a monumental night. Even before stepping into the stadium, fans sensed this wasn’t going to be a regular concert—it was shaping up to be a landmark moment in rock history.
As night fell, the Melbourne Cricket Ground lit up like a beacon. Thousands of fans poured into the arena wearing AC/DC shirts, glowing devil horns, and leather jackets pulled from decades-old closets. Melbourne has long been considered AC/DC’s spiritual home, and the sense of belonging in the air was undeniable. People weren’t just attending a show; they were returning to a place where memories were forged, where AC/DC’s legacy ran through the veins of the city. Every conversation in the crowd carried the same excitement: “This is the one we’ve been waiting for.”
When the lights cut out and the opening chords struck, any doubt about the band’s power vanished instantly. Angus Young burst across the stage in his schoolboy uniform, while Brian Johnson unleashed that unmistakable growl that has defined stadium rock for decades. Age had done nothing to dull their force. The roar from the crowd hit like a wave, shaking the stands. Fans who had seen the band forty years ago stood beside teenagers experiencing them for the first time, both reacting with the same explosion of energy.
The production behind the performance was nothing short of staggering. Towering LED screens, steel structures, and massive lighting rigs transformed the stage into a giant machine built for rock warfare. Flames shot skyward in sync with drum hits, and animated visuals resurrected the band’s iconography in dazzling form. Each transition felt like a movie scene, yet nothing ever overshadowed the music itself. AC/DC had mastered the balance between modern spectacle and raw, old-school power.
One of the most electrifying moments came when “Highway to Hell” kicked in. The stadium erupted instantly, and tens of thousands of people began jumping. The ground trembled under the weight of the crowd, creating a sensation so intense that many honestly wondered if the venue was experiencing an actual earthquake. It wasn’t a natural seismic event, but the human-made vibrations were unmistakably real. For the fans inside, it felt like Melbourne itself had surrendered to the music.
The mix of age groups in the audience was one of the night’s most fascinating sights. Lifelong fans with silver hair stood shoulder to shoulder with young adults who had discovered the band online. Three generations screamed the same lyrics with the same passion, proving how deeply AC/DC’s music cuts across time. One moment, a grandfather was belting out a chorus; the next, his teenage grandson joined in, both completely lost in the music. Few bands on Earth can unite people like that.
Angus Young’s performance became a story in itself. At 70 years old, he moved with a fire that few musicians half his age could match. He duck-walked across the massive stage for meters at a time, legs pumping, guitar screaming, hair flying. The crowd lost its mind with every step. Watching him, no one cared about age—he wasn’t just performing; he was redefining what a rockstar looks like. Every motion felt like proof of his legendary status.
One of the night’s biggest surprises arrived when the band launched into “Jailbreak,” a song they hadn’t played live in decades. The reaction was deafening. Fans who never expected to hear it again shouted in disbelief, recording every second. It felt like AC/DC had opened a time capsule and released a piece of history back into the world. For many older fans, it became the highlight of the night—a reminder of the band’s roots and the timelessness of their sound.
Brian Johnson also delivered an unforgettable performance. While he naturally didn’t reach the high peaks of his early years, his voice carried a depth and grit that felt richer, lived-in, and authentic. He approached each song with passion rather than perfection, and the audience loved him for it. Between verses, he laughed, shouted, and interacted like someone who genuinely loved being on that stage. His presence reminded everyone that rock is not about flawlessness, but about force and spirit.
When “You Shook Me All Night Long” hit, the entire stadium transformed into a single, unified wave of movement. From the mosh pit to the top row, every person was on their feet. The sound of tens of thousands singing together rolled through the night like thunder. It was one of those rare moments where the audience became part of the band, amplifying the performance far beyond what was happening onstage.
Melbourne’s lifelong connection to AC/DC added emotional weight to the night. The city has been intertwined with the band’s history since the early days—from music videos filmed on its streets to clubs where young versions of the band first performed. For the fans, this return felt like more than just a tour stop; it felt like a cultural reunion. The MCG, one of the city’s most iconic landmarks, became the perfect arena for a celebration of this long-standing bond.
“Let There Be Rock” brought the show to an epic peak. Flames, lights, and Angus Young’s extended solo pushed the energy into overdrive. His performance bordered on athletic, spinning, sliding, and shredding without losing a single note. Fans knew they were witnessing one of those legendary Angus moments—the kind people talk about for years, replaying blurry concert videos just to relive the magic.
By the time the cannons fired and the final chords echoed across the venue, the crowd understood they had witnessed something historic. Hands were raised, voices cracked, and people looked around at strangers with the same exhausted, exhilarated smiles. The night felt like a collective victory—not just for AC/DC, but for every person who had ever blasted their music in a car, a bedroom, or a bar.
As the crowd poured out into the Melbourne streets, the energy didn’t fade. Public transportation filled with people humming riffs, chanting “Oi! Oi! Oi!” and replaying videos on their phones in disbelief. Even long after midnight, the city still echoed with the sounds of the show. It felt like Melbourne had been shaken—not metaphorically, but physically—by the sheer force of human energy.
In the end, AC/DC’s November 2025 concert at the MCG was far more than a live performance. It was a celebration of a legacy, a reunion with a city that helped shape the band, and a demonstration that true rock energy doesn’t fade with age. Angus Young, at 70, showed what a real rockstar looks like, and the band proved once again that they reign not by nostalgia, but by sheer, undeniable power.
