Three Maxims And You’re Out
I usually like and agree with Kitty Empire’s Album of the Week review in the Observer Magazine, and today’s is no
exception, this one celebrating the signature return to a sound from which they
never moved, AC/DC’s latest release Rock
or Bust.
To pilfer and add to Empire’s ironic premise which is based
on the quote from Heraclitus of Epheus there
is no constant in the world but change, I will mention Man’s yesterday may ne’re be like his morrow/Nought may endure but
mutability by PB Shelley, and what
does not change/is the will to change by Charles Olson as two further
axioms consigned to the embarrassment of irony when flouted by the stickingmast
of AC/DC’s courageous rock-riff adherence.
Opener Rock or Bust
epitomises and exemplifies [one more?] and envelopes that proven simple rock
pattern to perfect effect, the four-part riff quick-strummed until the bass
thuds in at a mono-note, and Johnson’s high-pitched rasp begins the ascending
vocal melody. It is a classic corker.
And this is where H-of-E, PBS and CO get immediate short
shrift because second Play Ball is
more of the same, obviously a difference in the riff – too symptomatic to
embellish it as a nuance – and the pounding places us straight back into the
head bang.
Miss Adventure
gets linguistically playful, but it is another in that riff-groove - this one ever-so-slightly
more elaborate - and closer Emission
Control deserves a mention now as another linguistic tease, albeit silly,
but a chugging rhythm keeps a grip on the musical template.
There are relatively duller spots: Dogs of War is more generic than signature, the semi-thrash vocal
and chorus providing a glint of Metal; Hard
Times starts well enough but has quickly fallen on them; Baptism of Fire searches for that
elusive original riff climb and fall, but the hot apocalypse eludes.
Rock the House, as
Empire notes, soundchecks Led Zep to a degree, and the guitar/bass tandem riff
supports Johnson’s Plant-esque squeeze
well; Sweet Candy follows and
soundchecks a Hendrix feedback intro: all masters in their own ways.
This is an album I now know better than any of their others,
having listened and written about briefly when it was streamed, and since
acquiring I have returned to it for loud assimilation. Having, in its steadfastness, defeated three philosophical/poetic
maxims to their irrelevances, I’m guessing I don’t need to search out more.
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