That Brian Johnson is even contemplating getting back out on the road is startling. AC/DC looked dead and buried after the gradual deterioration of a band whose very purpose, fittingly, was to push things to the limit.
Sadly, those limits accounted for the departed Malcolm Young, who right now is strumming happily in heaven. There was also the departure of drummer Phil Rudd. At the same time, lead man Johnson’s hearing crashed to a point where he was risking total deafness if he were to continue playing to packed out audiences the world over such has been the band’s modus operandum over the past four decades.
Yet rock ‘n’ roll behemoths rarely disappear quietly, and while Malcolm won’t return, his nephew Stevie is very present and has stepped into his shoes. Rudd’s problems appear behind him, and he’s back, while Johnson has “a new set of ears,” so he says, in his trademark working-class English northeast accent.
That AC/DC are back is one thing to remark on and celebrate, though the fact 74-year-old Johnson still has the zest, drive, appetite, and perfect humility to keep making music, touring, and playing live is quite another. This is, after all, a man with more than one passion in life. That’s because despite being one of rock’n’roll’s most legendary frontmen, Johnson has always loved cars, and to this day, remains obsessed with pretty much anything on four wheels. Brian’s motor fetish is particular: fast, vintage vehicles he can race around in so much so that when not on the road belting out AC/DC hits, he’s on a different type of road altogether, putting his foot to the floor on race tracks all over the world.
Currently boasting a collection that includes a Royal RP 4, Lola T70 Mark 1, The Pilbeam, and his current favorite, a Mini Austin Cooper S, Johnson is like a kid in a sweet shop discussing them. “I raced about five times in that Mini last year around Europe, and god damn, it is so much fun. It makes me smile. My jaws are aching when I get out of the car.”
The seed of Johnson’s fascination originated when growing up in a 1950s working-class town, where motor racing was the epitome of dangerous cool at a time when the world was enviously eyeing up the British scene. Yet It was February 1980 when Brian Johnson received a destiny-defining phone call to ask if he would like to join AC/DC in the place of the late great Bon Scott. Who could have possibly imagined that 41 years later, AC/DC would still be the biggest and best rock band on the planet? As the band moves close to their 50th anniversary, the band’s original line-up came about in 1973. It’s fitting they will be back out on the road.
STRIPLV: Where did the love of cars come from? JOHNSON: It was the same for any young kid, especially in the early Sixties; it was all getting exciting, Sterling Moss was about, and the Brits were just the best. We had the best pop music with The Beatles. We had the best car with the Mini. Everybody loved Britain and wanted to be in England. There was a lot of racing coverage, and it fascinated me, these real-world heroes. They were knights in shining armor, but they just had a helmet on. Every kid in the world wanted to be a racing driver.” I was interested in cars because there weren’t any in our street. Regular guys didn’t have cars. This was the early 50s. There was petrol rationing. They were expensive. STRIPLV: You have always stayed so grounded. How have you done that? JOHNSON: We are not celebrities. We don’t know how to be celebrities. I think that helps. We keep grounded. I’m a lad from the northeast of England; how could I not stay grounded!? It helps us when we come to make music, but it also helps people relate to us more. You open the newspapers in England today, and lots of it is just a famous person having a drink in the pub. That is the way of the world, but we’re not like that. STRIPLV: Do you regret being so full-on with your performing over the years? Has it cost you time? JOHNSON: The thing about me is, I only know one way to sing. I can only go at it full throttle. I sing like I’m still a young man, even though I’m 74. But it’s the only way I know how to do it. I pride myself on going out and giving it everything for a full gig. And as long as I can do that, then I will carry on doing it. I have to prove that I can still go out there and do it like I used to for two hours. I don’t want to retire. I have no intention of retiring. But I still want to be able to do it justice. I don’t want to be letting the boys down. STRIPLV: How did your motor TV show come about? JOHNSON: It came about because I wrote a book called Rockers and Rollers. I always figured that rock ‘n’ roll and cars automatically went together, and I think plenty of people agreed with me. It was from all the old Elvis Presley movies, there were always cool cars on there and stuff like that - it was a world that didn’t exist in the northeast of England. Then The Beatles and the Stones came along, and the Minis came out - suddenly, having a Mini was cool. You’d see movie stars with them, royalty, pop stars, and your dad might have one as well. It was the ultimate car. So the production company has a connection with Discovery Channel, and David Notman-Watt came over to see me in Arizona, and we went for coffee. He said he’d been reading the book and how I would like to do a six-part series on cars. Well, I couldn’t believe they were going to let me loose on the television screen. But they did; I told them I was a little bit nervous about doing it. My accent is a little hard to understand in certain parts of the world. Taiwan comes to mind. (Laughs) I thought I might crash or make an arse of myself, but anyway, it was all great fun in the end. STRIPLV: What was your first car? JOHNSON: My first car was a Ford Popular. It was 1959. I think it was the last year they ever made them. And my pops, who was not a loveable kind of guy - you know, a good firm handshake was enough for him, he just said on my 17th birthday “Here you go,” and threw me a set of keys. No “happy birthday son” or anything, just “here you go” like a Sargent Major. And I just died. It was the worst colored car. It was a beige car, and it had a salmon pink interior. It was horrible, but I didn’t care. To me, that was freedom. And boy, oh boy, I just loved that car so much. STRIPLV: So, how did your interest in fast sports cars and racing develop? JOHNSON: I think it was the same for any young kid, especially in the early Sixties. Stirling Moss was about, and the Brits were just the best. We had the best pop music with The Beatles, we had the best cars with the Mini, and everybody loved Britain and wanted to be in England. It was very exciting. There was a lot of coverage of the racing, and it fascinated me, these real-world heroes. They were knights in shining armor, but they just had a helmet on. It was so exciting to watch, and I think that every kid in the world wanted to be a racing driver. STRIPLV: You touched on it before, but there are apparent similarities between AC/DC’s music and driving fast cars? JOHNSON: To me, it seems so bloody obvious. Everybody else is just getting it. The crowd, the noise, the excitement, the finish line, the end of the show. It all goes together. When there are 100,000 cheering, it is such a rush. When they are cheering for you, and it is a personal, special thing, nothing can beat that. But it comes a close second when you’re standing at the starting line with about 40 V6s and V8s from the Sixties and Seventies. I mean big stonking roaring gits like McLaren and Lolas and Chevrons. And when that flag drops, oh. It’s like Zeus breaking wind - it’s just ridiculous! STRIPLV: So how good has it been to get back together with the guys and start making music again? JOHNSON: It’s been magic. There have been moments, and sometimes, you know, you can just smell the energy in the room. As individuals and as a band, we’ve been through a lot over the past few years, so it was just so wonderful that everybody was up for it. And when we did the song The Mists of Time, well, I still get goosebumps when I hear that song, and that was more for Malcolm than anybody else. STRIPLV: It must still be quite raw? JOHNSON: It is. There were so many fun times we had with Malcolm, particularly in the early Eighties when we were blitzing it. Malcolm was the driving force with Angus. He was a wise man, the greatest guitar player, and he was at his peak in an era where there were no mobile phones, there was no intrusion, just happy times, and for me, that song encapsulated so much of what we did together. STRIPLV: What about the album and new material in general. It must have been an emotional ride to start songwriting again? JOHNSON: Well, the perception was the album was put together during the pandemic, but it was actually recorded back in 2018, not even long after Malcolm had passed away. Obviously, we had a period of inactivity, like everyone else across the whole bloody world. Still, we’ve been able to come back together to put finishing touches to the material and start the process of trying to get these tracks out there to a real audience, and that’s the dream now. STRIPLV: Does it feel like a landmark album? JOHNSON: Definitely, because it’s an album that shouldn’t necessarily have ever been made. When you look at everything that was going on then, with the band, and in our private lives, and Malcolm and my hearing, well, I just think those things might have finished a lot of other bands off. The thing with AC/DC is we’re so stupid and so incredibly stubborn that we never know when to stop. We also don’t have any other way to live, so the idea of not making music was just too awful to consider. It felt like a bereavement. STRIPLV: Did you have your doubts as regards your hearing? JOHNSON: Ah yes. I just knew the inevitable was coming, and I tried to pretend it wasn’t, you know? I’m a tough guy, and nothing’s going to stop me, but I really started believing my own publicity, and then you get floored, and you are forced to really take a reality check and appreciate you’re not as young as you used to be. I think when you do that, you start to program things in a different way. You realize that by taking a step back, you actually create a path forward. It’s a bit slower, a bit labored, and a bit more leisurely than the one you were on, but it really does point you forward, which is better than the alternative, I can assure you. What I’m saying is I’m not as strong as an ox, which is what I’ve always told myself, but I am strong. STRIPLV: A measured reality check then?! JOHNSON: It had to be. The older you get, the more you hear other people. You know Eddie Van Halen and Little Richard, and it does that make you deal with your own mortality. The fact is I’m 74, yet I don’t feel I’ve even started - it’s just crazy. You start noticing people popping, you know, just here and there. You know, my dad used to say, ‘son, you just play the cards you are dealt, and that’s all you can do. STRIPLV: Is the rock ‘n’ genre dead? JOHNSON: Almost. (Laughs) It is as though music has moved on, and there are only a few bands left now really playing guitars and writing tracks like they used to. I hope it comes back around, like most genres, and there will be something of a revolution, but in the modern era, it’s all so clean and well marketed, and there are no perfections. It depresses me a bit because music is about passion and raw feeling. The stuff a lot of the labels churn out now is just for kids, and there’s not a lot else out there for the rest of us. That was another reason why it was essential we got the band back together. We’ve got to carry on the line. STRIPLV: And the fans have responded. JOHNSON: Well, yes, and we are so grateful for that. In the first instance, we just planned some shows, not a full-on tour or anything silly. We need to get back into a rhythm, and hopefully, we’ll be able to do that when this whole thing opens back up again. It’s the fans you miss more than the music itself. We have such a wonderful fanbase which is just so special to us. Of course, I’m terribly biased when I think ours is the best, but I think they really understand what we are about. It’s all to do with keeping everything honest. There’s no hidden agenda. It’s about putting on an album for perhaps just an hour, sitting back, and listening to it. It’s the simplest of pleasures and one I hope we never take for granted.