When I was in my teens I lived in Huntington Beach, California, and there was a girl called Cindy who worked at a record store. I used to sell pot, but I would trade her pot for records. She liked to come over to my house to smoke it and [makes a rude gesture], so that’s how I discovered AC/DC.
The first time I put on Let There Be Rock I was looking at the back cover and wondering ‘What the Hell’s up with that dude’s lip?’ But hearing the music, my life totally changed. To me it sounded like something was wrong, like it was too close to my face. Most records are all around you, but this one was right there [spreads his hand in front of his nose]. It was… unsettling. I remember everything, from that first millisecond, the little crackle before ‘ga-dun-GAR!’ in Go Down, to the last guitar noise at the end of Whole Lotta Rosie.
