Gut Reactions (post-gig memories and other trips): AC/DC "PWR UP" Tour, Murrayfield Stadium, Edinburgh. Thursday 21st August

This story starts when the tickets went on sale. I was 25448th in the queue.

No big deal. The capacity at Murrayfield is 67,144, so I'll definitely get a ticket. Except, I want a Front Standing ticket. My experience at Bruce Springsteen in the Rear Standing section was not good. I also log onto Viagogo, curious to see what they have and how much they cost. I pop a Front Standing in my basket, with an asking price of £373, and let the ten-minute counter run down. I'm still nowhere near the front of the TM queue, but decide I'm not prepared to pay that much for AC/DC. I do this six times, each time the value of the Viagogo ticket drops until it reaches £273. An hour later, I get into TM, but they have no Front Standing tickets left, so I buy the Viagogo ticket, pay my money and wait to see if it comes. I've read nightmare articles where the artists cancelled the resales, scammers sell the same ticket multiple times, or the seller fails to transfer the ticket. I know Viagogo will refund my money if it goes wrong, but that would mean I miss out on seeing AC/DC, probably given their age, for the last time.

For months, I fret, worrying whether it will arrive. Viagogo says the ticket may not be released until the day of the concert. I tell people only that I 'might' be going to the concert. The stress does my head in. So much for retirement being stress-free.

Finally, five days before the gig, I get an email saying the ticket is available. Fantastic, except Ticketmaster keeps telling me something has gone wrong. We've been in Edinburgh, it's late, so I pray it's just a problem with their website.

The next morning, I successfully transfer the ticket via the app. I'm going to AC/DC! Whoop!

On the day of the gig, my brother-in-law, who is working at the gig in hospitality, informs me that my planned parking location has been coned off. My mate who lives on that street confirms the street is already at capacity. My stress levels rise. I'm taking my pal, Des. We'd agreed to leave Paisley at 2.30 pm (for a 5 pm doors open). Is that going to be too late to find a space nearby?

Everything goes smoothly. I find a place to park at Saughton Grove, less than fifteen minutes' walk to the venue. Panic over. Now I can relax.

Des heads into town (he's got a seated ticket); I join the Front Standing queue. It's been set up using barriers to make us snake up and down until we reach security. The space is so vast, some punters are using the corners like F1 drivers to overtake. Nine people who started behind me end up in front. I try not to let it get to me. It's early. The doors haven't even officially opened, and we're moving. There are not that many people in front anyway.

At security, the queue is broken into six lines. These lines move at different paces, depending on whether someone has a bag or is carrying something they shouldn't, so I make back the distance I lost. Then we walk to the turnstiles and wait to enter. I join an unusually short queue with only one person in front of me. Of course, there's a problem. This young lad has taken a screenshot of his live barcode, so it gets declined. Instead of taking him aside, though, G4S make us all wait while a supervisor is summoned. I start to feel claustrophobic, stuck inside the narrow turnstile block. We're prevented from exiting our queue by the security behind us, so we have to wait. Eventually, the supervisor arrives, finds out what the idiot did and gets him to log into his account to access a fresh code. Only his phone signal is poor, so it takes a while.

We then head into the stadium and onto the pitch. The crowd at the barrier is already one or two people deep, so I can't decide where to stand. Not in front of the runway. If I stand there, I can't see the stage. I made that mistake at Pink. I move around the corner, a distance from the barrier. What if tall people arrive and block my view? I panic and head down to the side, level with the end of the walkway.

Why is there always a giant at the barrier?

There is a mix of nationalities around me, particularly German and French. The two Germans reveal they paid €3000 for a five-night stay at the Edinburgh Motel One after buying their concert tickets, not realising how expensive Edinburgh accommodation is during the Festival. I quickly become surrounded as the space fills up. I haven't had anything to eat or drink, and it doesn't look like I am going to be able to without losing my spot.

(I promise I'll discuss the actual gig eventually).

The Pretty Reckless take the stage at 6.45 pm and play a standard set. Taylor Momsen has a 'heroin-chic' look about her, super skinny, dressed in her sheer nightie dress, clodhooper boots boosting her already tall frame by a few more inches. Her voice is powerful when she wants it to be, at other times, almost whispering the moody vocals. I rarely see the guitarist as he is mostly on the other side of the stage. I realise that this is a problem: I no longer have an overall view of the stage, exacerbated by the tall people around me. I persevere. I can't see where else to go. I give up on any chance of filming any songs and accept I may only be able to snap a few, limited-view photos.

The audience reaction around me seems muted. Many of them seem unfamiliar with The Pretty Reckless. They're there only for AC/DC. As a result, my enjoyment is diminished. Less Pretty Reckless and more Pretty Average.

Setlist

Death by Rock and Roll
Since You're Gone
Follow Me Down
Only Love Can Save Me Now
Witches Burn (With "Broomsticks" outro)
Make Me Wanna Die
Going to Hell
Heaven Knows
Take Me Down

Yes, that is an ear on the right.

Ear it is again

By the time AC/DC are due on the stage, the area is crammed, made all the worse by punters sitting down, leaving the impression there is still space, which draws in more people. Latecomers suddenly appear wanting to join their friends on the barrier, but there is no room. This causes friction and verbal argy-bargy. The new arrivals relent and leave, but not until after expressing how disgusted they feel at receiving such abuse. I'm disgusted by their attitude. Most of us have been here for over three hours. How dare they waltz in and expect us to move!

It gets worse when AC/DC starts. A number of yobs rush forward through the crowd, pushing their way to get to the front. Security spots this and, to their credit, acts. Two men are bodily lifted and surfed over the barrier. Unfortunately, the majority get to stay. They gloat at their victory, warning those around them with glee that they are about to form a moshpit. Which they do. Nothing is more distracting than having to be wary of a surge in your direction. You can't pay attention to the music or what's happening on the stage.

I shouldn't have gone so far forward. Not only are there the problems I've discussed, I can't take in the screens on either side of the stage, even in my peripheral vision. During the show introduction, when the car is racing towards Edinburgh, I can only see the central image. I have to keep turning my head, missing the action on the other screen. It's too late to find somewhere else to stand.

Another consequence of the moshpit is that people are trying to avoid it, packing closer to the barrier in an uneven fashion. This distorts the natural order, bringing more tall people into my line of sight, interrupting my view.

Then, there's the phone nonsense. Whenever any band member approaches, well, Angus or Brian (the others don't move about), everyone raises their phone in a Pavlovian response to capture it. I want to do it too, but resist. The guy behind me keeps knocking my head with his arm as he holds aloft his camera, arms fully stretched upwards for the best view.

German Folk Dancing.

The band play okay, but notably Angus fluffs the riff for Thunderstruck, losing his place, knocking the rhythm. Brian's voice isn't great either, swapping enthusiasm for ability. He's got a horrendous cough, but is giving it his all. Whenever he punches the air, it looks like he's celebrating that he managed to sing the words. When Angus lifts his hand to his ear, it doesn't feel like a signal for us to cheer, more like a suggestion that the old man can't hear us.

All this sounds like I didn't enjoy the show. I did, but only after I let go of my preconceptions and complaints and got on with it, being in the moment. By the time they played Let There Be Rock, I was truly in my element, rocking along, shaking my head (very much not in disapproval), lost to the music. This was proper AC/DC, not the guff pretending to be them at Bonfest. Okay, they might not be in their prime any more, not at their best, but it's still the best music in the world. You can't beat a proper bit of AC/DC.

I'll not get to see them again, and if they do return to these shores, I probably won't go. As a send-off, though, it was a great way to go.

Setlist

If You Want Blood (You've Got It)
Back in Black
Demon Fire
Shot Down in Flames
Thunderstruck
Have a Drink on Me
Hells Bells
Shot in the Dark
Stiff Upper Lip
Highway to Hell
Shoot to Thrill
Sin City
Hell Ain't a Bad Place to Be
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
High Voltage
Riff Raff
You Shook Me All Night Long
Whole Lotta Rosie
Let There Be Rock

Encore:
Fling Thing (First Time Since 1980) (Besides Angus With Bonny Solo)
T.N.T.
For Those About to Rock (We Salute You)