Review Summary: It was worth the eight-year wait.
AC/DC are probably the only band in the world that suffers from old age. Other bands mellow out their sound as they age (hello, Metallica!), or turn to completely different musical styles (hello, Rolling Stones!), but few of them actually succumb to the effects of a long-winded career the way AC/DC did.
Let me try to explain: in their prime, back in the 70’s, this band was releasing an album a year, and they all kept a significantly high level of overall quality. In the 80’s, the quota decreased to an album every two years, and the quality standards were abysmally lowered. In the 90’s, all schedule and quality patterns went to hell, which explains why the band only put out four albums in the last 20 (!) years, and why they were all hit-or-miss, at best. From (the rather good)
The Razors Edge to (the not so good)
Ballbreaker, there was a four-year interval; from
Ballbreaker to (the not bad, but really dull)
Stiff Upper Lip, seven years passed. However, the absolute record for lenght is held by the band’s latest opus, which took a whopping
eight years in the making.
In fact,
Black Ice’s story was anything but straightforward. It was supposed to have been ready way back in 2003, when the band issued their first statements to the effect. However, a busy touring schedule and numerous 50-something birthdays (and one 60th birthday) meant the the group didn’t
really start working on
Black Ice until late 2007. A year later, the album was unleashed upon a generation of rabid fans, myself included.
So in the good album/bad album dynamics of 90’s AC/DC, where does
Black Ice fall? According to the pattern shown above, it seemed doom to be mediocre; fortunately, however, it lands on the good side of the fence, and improves upon its predecessor,
Stiff Upper Lip, while retaining a few flaws of its own.
Let’s start with the good: AC/DC are back with a strong set of songs, riffs and choruses. Angus and Malcom’s power-chords still get your fist pumping and foot tapping within 10 seconds of their audition. Brian Johnson still can’t sing worth a damn, but at least he’s not phoning it in, and he seems to genuinely enjoy himself on each of the fifteen songs of the album. The rhythm section is still discreet, yet ever-present, and it’s good to see Cliff Williams’ bass shine through on occasion, like in the beginning of
War Machine. In short, AC/DC are still AC/DC, and that’s always a good thing.
The album starts off pretty strong, too.
Rock’n’Roll Train seems, at first, to be just another pedestrian AC/DC song (I was underwhelmed when I heard it), but eventually ingratiates itself with the listener.
Big Jack is an immediate standout, with its strong rhythm and tongue-in-cheek lyrics. We can practically see Brian winking and grimacing at us while he sings about the titular sex superhero.
Anything Goes is a more-than-decent attempt at something a little different, initially sounding like a Bruce Springsteen song., then developing into a strong rocking track.
Smash and Grab and
Spoilin’ For a Fight are tipically, gloriously AC/DCiac, while
Skies on Fire and
Wheels hold the fort nicely.
The second half, however, falters considerably, containing only one standout in the infectious
Money Made.
Stormy May Day thrives on its plaintive slide-guitar riff and balladesque rhtyhm, and
Rockin’ All The Way wins on its fun, catchy chorus, which nullifies the slightly boring verse sections. However, the remaining songs are rather nondescript, with the title track being the very definition of “forgettable” and the dire
Rock’n’Roll Dream representing the absolute rock-bottom of this record, as well as the worst AC/DC song in at least 20 years.
And this is where another problem arises. In this album, AC/DC tried to please everybody by gathering a bit of each of their records and adding a little experimentation. Opener
Rock’n’Roll Train seems to continue down the path set by
Stiff Upper Lip, but
Skies on Fire harks back to
Flick Of The Switch,
Money Made could have been on
The Razors Edge and
Rockin’ All The Way sounds like an outtake from the Bon Scott years.
Anything Goes,
Stormy May Day and
Rock’n’Roll Dream all attempt to take the band in new directions, adding elements we’d never expect to hear in an AC/DC album, but while on the first two the innovations work, on
Dream they fall flat, just like they had nearly 20 years previously on the title track from
The Razors Edge. AC/DC still can’t write complex songs, and should stick to what they know.
Another problem arises from a certain lack of inspiration. The most glaring example is on
Decibel, which is basically a note-per-note remake of
Meanstreak, from
Blow Up Your Video, as well as of one of the songs on
Stiff Upper Lip. Rather unnecessary, I’d think. The wave of laziness extends to Phil Rudd’s painfully straightforward drums, which contain precious little fills or, for that matter, variation. He just picks up the beat at the beginning and keeps on at it endlessly. Oftentimes I found myself listening for breaks or fills that never came, and I spotted a handful of missed opportunities to include them. Overall, some of the most mechanic human drumming I’ve heard since Richie Sambora. To boot, Angus Young’s solos are also very low-key and uninspired this time around, with none of the guitar acrobatics we’ve come to know and love from the diminutive guitarist.
Other – minor – nitpicks include lenght and lyrics. As for lenght, 15 songs is clearly too much for an album of this nature, and bands should know better than to try and capitalize on the 70 minutes of a CD just because they can (this is for you, too, Green Day!). And in what concerns lyrics, no one should let the Young brothers near a sheet of words ever again. Most of the time, it’s fine, but at certain points it becomes undecipherably cryptical. Examples include
”black is the name that you should have forgave/call of the wild, hungry for naught/that thing gone wild” – what the hell does that mean, anyway?
Still, I’m being mean.
Black Ice is better than it had any right to be, and certainly better than anyone could expect from AC/DC in 2009. At least three-fourths of the album are pretty strong, and even the (rather dire) filler manages not to grate so much after a few listens. While I won’t be shouting to the Heavens the way I did when I heard
Death Magnetic, I’m certainly glad my favourite band is back with a rather strong and dignified outing. The fanboy in me wants to rate it a four, but the more reasonable, critic part of it knows it can never be more than a 3.5. So be it, but I’m still geeking out. And I can’t wait for next Wednesday, which is set to be the greatest night of my life so far…for it is the night when the Rock’n’Roll Train finally comes to my town in all its live glory. And I’m sure to be in the crowd, fist raised, singing along to every word Brian utters, and forgetting that the band’s present album even has any weaker moments.
For those about to rock…I salute you!
Recommended Tracks
Rock’n’Roll Train
Big Jack
Smash’n’Grab
Money Made
