25 Years of “Back in Black”
- Back In Black
- Like a fine wine, AC/DC's timeless classic just keeps getting better with age.
When Bon Scott, the immensely popular lead singer of the Australian rock outfit AC/DC, drank himself to death after a night of partying in early 1980, many critics began composing the band’s epitaph well before Scott was even in the ground. After all, replacing the caustic Aussie – whose trademark vocal sneer and wickedly volatile stage presence propelled the group to the forefront of the ‘70s hard rock movement – with anyone half as talented and acerbic seemed an immeasurable task.
Enter Brian Johnson.
Just a few months after Scott’s death, AC/DC not only found a suitable replacement for Scott’s ostensibly irreplaceable pipes and testosterone-laden persona, but released Back in Black, a rock album so dynamic and influential it remains one of the all-time greatest to this day.
To say Johnson had some pretty big shoes to fill could be about as big an understatement the rock and roll world had ever known. Like nails across a chalkboard, however, Johnson’s shriek – a harsher and more abrasive version of Scott’s, but no less effective – proved to be just what the doctor ordered; an elixir two parts talent, one part pure miracle. A more competent surrogate for the bittersweet transition to Back in Black could never have been predicted making Johnson’s discovery all the more pleasant.
By opening with the track “Hells Bells,” an ode to the late Scott, it becomes evident right away that AC/DC is not about to usher in the new era before paying tribute to the old. A slow guitar riff juxtaposed against the clang of a distant bell, “Bells” – one of the album’s strongest, albeit more subdued, songs – is a dark and foreboding eulogy to their former lead singer, and paves in sound his entrance into the hereafter.
“I’m a rolling thunder/a pouring rain/I’m comin’ on like a hurricane/My lightning’s flashing across the sky/You’re only young but you’re gonna die,” wails Johnson, intoning with every syllable heaps of awe for a predecessor he barely knew.
But instead of dwelling on the past for too long, AC/DC puts to bed early the notion that Back in Black might be a concept album dedicated entirely to the memory of Scott and soon gets back to doing what it does best, and that’s attack with an onslaught of auditory excess!
Backed by one of the genre’s best supporting casts – the Brothers Young, Malcolm and Angus, on guitar, Cliff Williams on bass, and Phil Rudd on drums – Brian Johnson screeches his way through song after song depicting, in detail not meant for the squeamish, the very nature of what makes rock and roll such an alluring pastime.
Sex is in no short supply on the classic and timeless “You Shook Me All Night Long,” with the Aussie quintet paying homage to a literal and figurative slice of American pie.
“She was a fast machine she kept her motor clean/She was the best damn woman that I ever seen/She had the sightless eyes telling me no lies/Knocking me out with those American thighs/Taking more than her share/Had me fighting for air/She told me to come but I was already there.”
Motorcar metaphors cannot disguise the band’s intent on this one, and you can just hear the gasps of millions of moms across the globe as they scurry to change the radio station.
So, too, in the bluntly named “Let Me Put My Love Into You” and “Given The Dog A Bone,” a song portraying the sexual aptitude of a lass who – thanks to her less-than desirable looks – may or may not be referred to in certain circles as “Lassie.”
“She’s no Mona Lisa/No she’s no playboy star/But she’ll send you to heaven/Then explode you to Mars,” sings Johnson, and suddenly ugly women with loose morals have an anthem all their own.
Just as dominant as the sexual overtones in Black are the references to drugs, like alcohol, the band’s obvious party catalyst.
On “Have A Drink On Me,” AC/DC implores you to put your concerns for tomorrow aside and join them in getting flat-out wasted. If the demise of Scott taught the band anything about the dangers of excess, “Drink” is their admission that they just don’t give a damn. Besides, dying young is a whole lot cooler if you’re a rock and roll star, a moniker the band is not afraid to affix themselves.
Lyrically, AC/DC adheres to all the same angst-ridden principles that made it successful in the past, but what puts Back in Black over the top is the sheer quality of the music. Where albums like Highway to Hell and Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap fail to lure the casual rock fan, Black succeeds with a tighter, more consumptive sound. Chock full of catchy guitar hooks and a more coherent production, the overall result is a compilation that not only rocks but is fun as hell to listen to!
Angus Young – maybe the most visible rocker from Down Under, thanks to his trademark schoolboy outfit and head-banging hijinks – has never been better. In the title track, he compliments his brother Malcolm’s strong rhythms with a lick so incendiary it’s damn near flammable. And on “You Shook Me,” his solo is so infectious I defy you to find someone – anyone – who can actually admit they never played air guitar to it.
Though Back in Black will forever be known for its bittersweet demarcation line in AC/DC folklore, it has remained one of the greatest hard-rock albums of all time. And if that’s not proof enough for you, the 20 million records sold worldwide should be enough to solidify the record’s reputation as one of rock’s most popular and enduring.
