What does it feel like to be a pioneer in the workplace? If you’re so deeply immersed and engaged in the work itself, there’s little time for such reflections, as Tana Douglas illustrates in her debut book Loud.
In late 1973, at age 16, she began working as a member of AC/DC’s road crew, helping to keep the show on the road for the Sydney-born rock act who would eventually become of the biggest bands in the world. Douglas’s story is unique and well told, and her book offers a rare perspective on the many hands that make light work behind the scenes of rock ‘n’ roll gigs, from small local acts all the way up to the stadium-filling headliners.
Her path into this career was born of impatience: one night in Sydney, Douglas’s broke friend was in dire need of a ride home to Melbourne, and her friends in a band called Fox weren’t exactly in a hurry to get back on the road after playing a concert.
An industrious self-starter by nature, Douglas jumped into action to load the gear back into the truck - while perhaps embarrassing the dillydallying male crew at the same time - and the next time Fox visited Sydney, they hired her to manage the equipment onstage. As she writes:
“It took a while for me to adjust to the job at hand, and a while longer before I even had time to consider the fact that there weren’t any other female roadies. I didn’t ever ask anyone about it, as I worried that if I brought attention to the fact I was the only one, then maybe I would be thrown out of my new club. I dressed like the boys! Drank like the boys! Even swore like the boys! Most importantly, though, I worked hard like the boys! I didn’t go into this field with the view that I was doing anything special or unusual; it was all about the music and a feeling of belonging.”
While Fox fell to the footnotes of Australian rock history, her meeting with AC/DC at a house in St Kilda in August 1974 would lead to a formative 12 months spent in the band’s orbit. As well as living with them, Douglas was there for the band’s first appearance on Countdown; the launch of its debut album High Voltage; and its first pub gig through to shows before thousands of fans, including the infamous Sunbury Pop Festival in early 1975, where AC/DC got into a fistfight with Deep Purple’s crew and refused to play.
These two chapters concerning her time with the Bon Scott-led band are essential reading for the more hardcore among fans of AC/DC, especially considering how tight-lipped the quintet was in general, preferring to let its hard-rocking music do most of the talking. Of a scary moment where an asthmatic Scott nearly died of a drug overdose in the Lansdowne Road house, she writes, “We were all sworn to secrecy about this incident as the best thing for the band as a whole.”
Douglas declined Malcolm Young’s offer to become AC/DC’s lighting designer in August 1975, opting instead to join local crews working on touring overseas acts such as Suzi Quatro, Santana, Neil Diamond and Status Quo. The latter band would become her international springboard: four years with Quo would in turn lead to working on shows with Elton John, Ozzy Osbourne and The Who.
This book's cast of culture-shaping characters is formidable, and fans of rock ‘n’ roll from the mid 1970s onwards will find plenty of fascinating anecdotes and observations. The real value of this book, though, is to right some wrongheaded notions of road crew both here and abroad, as Douglas writes:
“The general public tends to look at roadies as a bunch of wild, tough, and not necessarily talented, yobs. […] This impression, I can assure you, was inaccurate. Under those gruff exteriors lurked innovators who knew no fear or boundaries for change while creating the new face of the music industry.”
To succeed in this demanding industry, the author notes, “you had to commit to the lifestyle. You had to commit to the band. You had to commit to making the show happen, no matter what the personal cost.”
Skilfully threaded throughout the star-studded narrative of Loud is a quieter, more reflective personal story which details those personal costs. Unhappy at boarding school and at home as a teenager, Douglas had first found a sense of purpose and belonging in the club-like mentality of road crew that, like her, had bought the ticket and taken the ride.
In time, the all-consuming nature of a life in perpetual motion would catch up with Douglas and unravel in a spectacularly heartbreaking manner, which I won’t disclose here. Those costs are real, though, and her decision to explore this terrain in painstaking detail is to be applauded.
Much of the book details her working life up to the mid 1980s, with more recent decades captured in a series of vignettes. The book closes with a lovely reunion moment with Malcolm and Angus Young in 2000, neatly looping back to the beginnings of Douglas's career.
As for that notion of being a pioneer in a male-dominated workplace? Most of the time Douglas was so caught up in her high-pressure work that it didn’t register, but on her last tour with Elton John across England, she was met by a strange sight: another woman on the road crew in Debbie Vincent, a lighting technician. The pair soon became friends.
“It was nice to finally have another girl out there, and one who mostly knew her shit - what she didn’t know, she learnt quickly,” Douglas writes. “It was like having a little sister all of a sudden. It was 1983 and I had been touring for nearly a decade.”
Andrew McMillen is The Australian’s national music writer and author of Talking Smack: Honest Conversations About Drugs. This review originally published in The Weekend Australian Review on March 6, 2021.