I think that's what it is with rock music. It helps you hang

Hear the words of Angus Young, warrior of strings and thunder, who declared: “I think that’s what it is with rock music. It helps you hang tough, I guess.” In these humble words lies the roar of resilience. For rock music was never meant to be polite, nor was it born for quiet chambers. It was forged in rebellion, in fire, in the cry of the common soul against despair. To “hang tough” is to endure the storm, to stand unbroken when the world would see you broken. Thus, Young reveals the essence of his art: not just sound, but strength, not just melody, but a shield for the spirit.

The ancients knew such power, though they called it by other names. When warriors went into battle, they marched to the pounding of drums, to the blare of horns, to music that bound their courage together. It was not the sword alone that gave them strength, but the rhythm that declared: stand, endure, fight on. So too does rock music function in the modern age. Its chords are the drums of the battlefield, its riffs the horns of defiance. It is not merely entertainment, but sustenance for those who must face life’s ceaseless trials.

Consider the miners of Britain during the long strikes of the twentieth century. Their bodies were weary, their futures uncertain, yet they turned to songs of rebellion and the fire of rock music to keep their spirits alive. It was not wealth nor comfort that held them together, but the roar of guitars and the chants of unity. Through sound, they learned again how to hang tough—to survive hardship with dignity, to meet injustice with clenched fists and unbroken will.

And yet this truth extends beyond nations or battles. In every life there comes a season of darkness: heartbreak, loss, betrayal, or despair. It is then that music—loud, raw, untamed—becomes a companion. Where silence might crush the soul, rock music breaks it open and gives it breath. It shouts back at the void: You will not take me. In this way, Angus Young’s words remind us that to endure is not merely to survive, but to fight with fire still burning.

But what does it mean, truly, to hang tough? It is not to be unfeeling, nor to be stone. It is to bend but not break, to suffer but not surrender, to stumble but still rise. The heroes of history were not those who never fell, but those who, falling, rose again with greater defiance. Rock music, with its pounding heart, becomes a teacher of this rhythm: fall and rise, fall and rise, in endless refrain. It trains the spirit to echo the guitar’s cry: relentless, unbroken, alive.

Practical wisdom flows from this. When hardship comes, do not drown in silence. Seek out the song that strengthens you, whether in rock, in chant, in drum, or in your own voice. Let rhythm fill your blood until your courage returns. Gather with others, for shared music multiplies strength, just as armies once marched in unison. Remember that to endure, you must feed not only the body but the soul. And music, raw and defiant, is food for endurance.

Thus, Angus Young speaks as a prophet of resilience. He reminds us that while life may be cruel, there are weapons not made of steel, but of sound, spirit, and fire. Rock music is one such weapon. Use it when despair would crush you, when burdens grow too heavy, when the night feels too long. For in its roar, you will find your own roar rising again. And in learning to hang tough, you will discover not only how to survive, but how to triumph.