Drunk, dissatisfied but full of depth: the man who tore down the highway to hell

Before he died aged 33 in 1980, Bon Scott left an indelible mark on AC/DC. On the 50th anniversary of his induction into the hard rock band, Mark Beaumont remembers a musician who became an icon of rock’n’roll anti-conformity

Those lucky few Aussie greasers who saw Bon Scott’s first ever performance with AC/DC in September 1974 witnessed a rock’n’roll rebirth, its nerves comprehensively drowned, anaesthetised and powdered.

“Bon downed about two bottles of bourbon with dope, coke, speed, and said ‘Right, I’m ready,’” guitarist Angus Young was quoted in music journalist Clinton Walker’s biography of Scott, Highway to Hell, recalling his chaotic try-out gig at the Poorkara Hotel in Adelaide. “There was this immediate transformation, and he was running around with his wife’s knickers on, yelling at the audience. It was a magic moment. He said it made him feel young again.”

A few weeks later, Scott was inducted as a full-time member of the band ahead of his official debut at Rockdale’s Masonic Hall on 5 October, 50 years ago this week. Neither his life, nor rock music itself, would ever be the same again.

With Scott’s bawdy, funny and chant-worthy lyrics lashed to Malcolm and Angus’s visceral boogie rock riffs, AC/DC found the formula that would carry them to the highest echelons of rock stardom. Classics such as “It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock’n’Roll)”, “T.N.T.” and “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” paved the on-ramp to 1979’s Highway to Hell and its multiplatinum international success.

With his skintight T-shirts, ripped denim jackets, tattoos and attitude – outwardly at least – of brutish abandon, Scott epitomised the ragged rebellion at the root of the fun, dumb and dangerous-to-know hard rock music that AC/DC pioneered in the Seventies.

Sexy enough for the girls, tough enough for the bikers, he was an icon of larrikin living – roaring about sex, booze and rock’n’roll directly from the gutter. His piercing squeals and lock-up-yourdaughters lyricism, often delivered with a lascivious smirk, became the definitive blueprint of what a rock lead singer should be for the coming decades.