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The place would we be with out AC/DC? Their libidinous bar-room blues might sound – on the very least – anachronistic in sanitised, gender-neutral 2024, however the thirst for his or her primal boogie stays unquenchable: 2020’s Energy Up debuted at primary in 21 international locations.
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The touring lineup for his or her newest stadium jaunt could boast solely the indefatigable Angus – 68 years, erm, Younger – from the lineup for his or her first-ever gig at Sydney’s Chequers nightclub on December 31, 1973, however 200 million album gross sales later, their gonzo enchantment is that if something stronger than ever – a red-blooded, two-fingered raspberry within the face of an unblinking AI.
Accordingly, whereas not all of those gold vinyl reissues may be described as important – solely completists, you think about, will probably be speeding to revisit Who Made Who, the soundtrack for Stephen King’s flop 1986 horror film Most Overdrive – as an entire they supply an interesting perception into the working practices of a band whose gristle-free formulation and ego-free method have seen them negotiate the whole lot from punk to pandemics en path to international domination.
Many would possibly scoff at a 50-year again catalogue the place continuous reworkings of the identical three-chord trick come allied to lyrics which, as Angus as soon as described, hardly ever transfer past the (un)holy trinity of “automobiles, ladies and occasion time”. But, very similar to the Stones, by regularly honing this base metallic formulation, AC/DC have achieved sonic gold: a sound uniquely their very own.
The earliest experiments are invariably probably the most thrilling. Excessive Voltage is the aural equal of being wired into the mains, the band’s tough-as-tungsten mindset spelt out in defiant opener “It’s A Lengthy Means To The High (If You Wanna Rock ’n’ Roll)”, Bon Scott bawling, “Gettin’ outdated/Gettin’ gray/Gettin’ ripped off/Underpaid” amid the howl of screaming bagpipes.
If the next yr’s Soiled Deeds Achieved Dust Low-cost — the title an homage to a personality in children’ cartoon present Beany And Cecil — virtually invents Beavis And Butt-Head, it’s 1978’s Powerage which greatest exemplifies their less-is-more method. The purist’s ’DC album of selection, and tellingly Keith Richards’ favorite, it’s stripped to the bone sonically, Cliff Williams’ pump-action basslines the springboard for a tripwire-taut 40 minutes that includes a few of their funkiest, and grimiest, grooves. If the hardwire-riffing is each bit as thrilling because the Chuck Berry data which impressed the Younger brothers within the first place, Scott’s low-life snapshots of the drug-addicted and debt-ridden are as spiky as something by the Intercourse Pistols or The Stranglers.
“Stirred the espresso with the identical spoon,” laments the singer with a world-weary shrug on “Gone Shootin’”, the story of a hopelessly drug-addicted girlfriend, whereas a brooding “Sin Metropolis” finds the singer utilizing Las Vegas as a metaphor for the depressing lot of the working man in a world the place the loaded cube of life are all the time rigged towards him, desires of “Lamborghinis, caviar, dry martinis” eternally out of attain.
It’s additionally on Powerage the place the distinction between ’DC and (most of) their late ’70s friends is most stark, their musical know-how by no means extra evident than on “Riff Raff”. The tune’s lyrical message (“Ain’t completed nothin’ flawed/I’m simply having enjoyable”) would possibly mirror, say, Jimmy Pursey of Sham 69’s happy-go-lucky worldview, however musically it’s in a distinct league, Scott’s sandpaper drawl set towards an electrifying, five-minute fusion of prog-rock dexterity and punk fury, Angus’ molten solos a reminder {that a} scorched-earth coverage all the time works greatest whenever you’re sporting satan’s horns.
These musical chops had been, after all, utilised to their full potential on 1979’s imperious Freeway To Hell. Scott could be useless simply eight months after its launch (official trigger: acute alcohol poisoning after a go to to Camden membership The Music Machine, now Koko), and 45 years on, its cheerful celebration of deviance, immorality and plain dangerous behaviour sounds as exhilarating as ever due to Mutt Lange’s super-slick manufacturing.
For many bands, the lack of a charismatic frontman invariably sounds the death-knell for his or her profession. However by doubling down on their core values and recruiting affable former Geordie frontman Brian Johnson, the last word group participant, for 1980’s epochal Again In Black, ’DC defied the percentages as soon as extra, channelling their grief into the biggest-selling hard-rock album of all time.
Recorded sightings of this diabolic alchemy at full energy have been all too uncommon for the reason that brutalist bombast of 1981’s For These About To Rock (We Salute You) – their third, and final, collaboration with Lange – and it doesn’t really feel coincidental that these reissues skip over the artistic trough starting with 1983’s self-produced Flick Of The Swap and together with 1985’s Fly On The Wall and 1988’s Blow Up Your Video.
It was by getting again to fundamentals and permitting über-producer Brice Fairburn to helm 1990’s The Razor’s Edge that ’DC struck gold as soon as extra, the numbskull nirvana of “Thunderstruck” re-establishing them as international big-hitters, as illustrated on the next yr’s Dwell double album, recorded at exhibits within the UK, Canada and Russia.
Rock’n’roll damnation? Removed from it. Nearly 25 years on, the identical songs stay the bedrock of their dwell performances, and these albums the gold commonplace for all those that dare observe them.
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