Today I would like to take a moment to thank the heavy-metal band AC/DC and its unique assistance it has lent to drunk white people who can’t dance. I am, of course, talking about the 1980 anthem “Back in Black,” which is legally required at wedding receptions in 28 states.
Our collective debt to this Aussie quintet became apparent at a wedding I attended in Troy, Montana a few weeks ago. The DJs had pointed their speakers toward a wooden deck and served up a whiplash-inducing variety of music – country swing, then screaming grunge, and then a little hip-hop, leaving everyone confused and the dance floor pretty much empty.
Late in the evening, when the locals had taken some beer, the opening guitar salvo of “Back in Black” burst from the speakers, accompanied by AC/DC vocalist Brian Johnson, who sings like a parched desert nomad who has just been attacked by a cat. Suddenly, men who had been avoiding the dance floor like it was the perfume counter at Macy’s grabbed their gals’ hands and moved toward the floor.
It was as if a virulent strain of epilepsy had swept through northwestern Montana. People herked and jerked and scrunched up their faces and muttered along with the incomprehensible lyrics which, I’ve concluded after some research, include, “So look at me now, I’m just a makin’ my pay, Don’t try to push your luck, just get outta my way.”
I am unsure what these lyrics have to do with the holy union of marriage. I am also unsure what the sign of the devil has to do with marriage, or for that matter with AC/DC, but when listening to “Back in Black” the fingers just naturally stick out that way, as you can see (that’s me with the bride).
I can only assume that this song is an unlikely force for good.
Or at least a force for “it felt good at the time.”
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