The hosts don't necessarily care or know that much about politics (or so the thinking goes). So the politician involved will be able to laugh along to a few jokes, making them seem like an everyday guy or gal.

Of course, it's also got that delicious mass-audience thing happening. Real voters (not just elitist ABC types) listen to FM radio. It's the political equivalent of "two for the price of one".

This year, there has been a noticeable shift in Malcolm Turnbull's media strategy. The alerts for FM interviews with people such as "Marto", "Clairsy" and "Bob" – once a bit of a novelty – have become part of the Prime Minister's regular media diet.

Here, hosts will address the nation's leader as "Malcolm" or "mate" and Turnbull will be peppered with questions about movies, TV and Instagram along with a few inquiries about electricity prices and same-sex marriage.

But woe betide the politician who sees the FM outing as an easy option: the stakes here are higher than a pot-smoking convention on Mount Kosciuszko.

In conventional ("serious") political interviews, journalists stick to a kind of script. They will ask difficult questions, but these are usually predictable. The interviewer needs answers on the issues of the day, so it is relatively easy for politicians and their advisers to pre-empt the angles and work out something to say. But removed from the shackles of the daily news agenda, the FM hosts are free to ask politicians anything they want. And this is where it gets dangerous.

Earlier this year, Turnbull came unstuck when he was on 97.3FM in Brisbane and asked "do you ever Netflix and chill" with his wife, Lucy. "Yes, yes we do," the PM replied earnestly, no doubt thinking it would endear him to the millions of other TV-watching Australians out there.

Little did he know that "Netflix and chill" is a euphemism for sex.

On Monday, Turnbull appeared on Triple M in Brisbane. Things proceeded tamely enough until he was asked his favourite AC/DC song, given the band's guitarist Malcolm Young had died at the weekend.

There was as short pause before Turnbull asked Marto, Ed and Robin, "Well tell me, what's your favourite AC/DC song?"

"Long Way to the Top for me," came one host's reply. To which Turnbull unconvincingly countered, "Yeah, Long Way to the Top".

After a couple more title suggestions from the hosts, a newly inspired PM piped up with, "I tell you, my favourite song from that era is the Mental's [Mental As Anything], If You Leave Me Can I Come Too."

Needless to say, the PM's bid to distract and deflect was about as successful as Mal Meninga's tilt at Parliament. The headlines soon blared, "Malcolm Turnbull struggled to name a single AC/DC song this morning ... not his finest moment". Others joked about how this should result in an automatic loss of citizenship. Or at the very least, ineligibility for Parliament under section 44.

To make matters worse, in a misguided attempt at damage control, the Prime Minister's Office then asked voters for help.

"Alright, alright. The PM needs a refresh on his Aussie music. So we're making a playlist, starting with @ACDC and a bit of @braithwaite_d [Daryl Braithwaite]. Tweet us your suggestions."

While the official retweets indicate all he got were predictable names such as Jimmy Barnes, John Farnham, Cold Chisel and Paul Kelly (because the only Australian artists worth noting are men), the replies show Australia had other ideas.

The Prime Minister's Office may as well have said, "tweet us your most expletive-laden insults", given the songs that came back. The Skyhooks' Why Don't You All Get F---ed, Joe Dolce's Shaddap You Face and various unprintable titles by TISM are just a small cross-section of the choices.

What can be learned from the sorry episode?

Firstly, Turnbull's FM troubles once again prove the rule that when you are down in politics, inconvenient, embarrassing things keep happening to you. It's as if one dud event sets off a chain of other dud events. Blame it on bad luck or bad strategy. Or people simply no longer being willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But the PM's AC/DC song blank also shows how fraught it is when politicians try to prove they are Just Like You and Me. John Howard came a cropper when he attempted that overarm bowl. Tony Abbott came unstuck when he ordered that shandy. Kevin Rudd just came across as weird when he posted a picture of his shaving cut.

Political leaders are desperate to show voters they are regular, everyday people. But the truth is, by definition they aren't. They do extremely irregular, un-everyday jobs. And while this requires them to understand the needs and concerns of "ordinary Australians", it doesn't mean they have to be one of them as well.

The simple fact that they are responsible 24/7 for the wellbeing, prosperity and security of the nation means they live in a different world. Turnbull hasn't seen as many movies as you have recently, because when you're at home watching Netflix, he's at work doing prime minister stuff.

So if a song title from an iconic Australian band doesn't immediately spring to mind, we should all be at peace with that. If his head is full of economic data, intelligence about North Korea and cabinet decisions instead, well, that's actually the way it should be.