AC/DC have gone back to the drawing board for their first album in eight years. Perhaps chastened by the lukewarm reaction that greeted Stiff Upper Lip in 2000, the AC/DC group have had a dramatic, almost shocking rethink for this, their 15th LP. The band’s signature guitars and high-pitched vocals are largely absent from Black Ice; in their place sit glitch electronics and skittering drum machines, swirling strings, honking horns and children’s choirs and …
Only joking. Black Ice sticks so closely to the AC/DC template that you can’t help but wonder if it’s been computer-generated. There are big, crunchy riffs.
There is thunderously straightforward drumming. There are basslines that go dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum until guitarist Angus Young decides to change chords and everyone follows suit. There are sexual innuendos that most 15-year-olds would dismiss as immature. There are shrieking vocals and daft lyrics and 53-year-old men dressed as schoolboys.
There is not a single note that offers even a suspicion of surprise.
And that, basically, is that. If you think you’ve heard it before, you probably have. It ain’t broke; they didn’t fix it.
Will Fullford
Only joking. Black Ice sticks so closely to the AC/DC template that you can’t help but wonder if it’s been computer-generated. There are big, crunchy riffs.
There is thunderously straightforward drumming. There are basslines that go dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum-dum until guitarist Angus Young decides to change chords and everyone follows suit. There are sexual innuendos that most 15-year-olds would dismiss as immature. There are shrieking vocals and daft lyrics and 53-year-old men dressed as schoolboys.
There is not a single note that offers even a suspicion of surprise.
And that, basically, is that. If you think you’ve heard it before, you probably have. It ain’t broke; they didn’t fix it.
Will Fullford
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