From the vaults: AC/DC – Flick of the Switch (1983)
Following 5 years of colossal success and monstrous, almost circus-like tours, AC/DC decided to go back-to-bluesy-basics with ‘Flick…’. A decidedly understated white and grey cover was matched by a less hooky, chunkier sound. By their standards, the album bombed, and subsequent years have seen it maligned by ‘DC fans and largely forgotten by hard rock history. In one sense, this is a little unfair. ‘Flick…’ is certainly a more consistent and ballsy record than its predecessor, 1981’s ‘For Those About To Rock….’, and it’s rawer, grittier sound has aged far better than the cumbersome ‘Fly On The Wall’ and ‘Blow Up Your Video’, which both suffered from being drenched in production.
One consequence of this back-to-the-roots approach was the ejection of Mutt Lange, the uber-producer who had helped ‘DC craft their biggest-selling records – ‘Highway To Hell’ and ‘Back In Black’ – cleaning up their sound and forcing them to structure their songs around hooks rather than histrionics. In one sense this pays dividends. ‘Flick…’ sees the band at full power for much of the time, and rattles out of the speakers with a richer guitar roar and crunchier riffs, which makes the cheeky boogie of the title track, the pure abandon of ‘Rising Power’, and the chunky blues of ‘This House Is One Fire’ irresistible. And yet, the absence of Mutt left significant holes. ‘DC have never been a band to over-do dynamics and arrangements, but the monotony of having so many tunes at mid-pace, added to the absence of anything resembling a passable hook in ‘Bedlam In Belgium’, ‘Brain Shake’ and ‘Landslide’ resulted in a record which felt much longer than its 37 minutes. Before ‘Highway….’ AC/DC were a rampant and spontaneous blues-rock powerhouse who were at their best when capturing songs in the moment and jamming them out: Lange trained that out of them in favour of more conventional pop-rock structures, and when he was gone they had the template but little dynamism. Witness ‘Deep In the Hole’ – rarely has a double-entendre felt so tired.
But looking for sophistication in AC/DC is like searching for wisdom from the Kardashians – it ain’t there. So it’s dangerous to over-analyse them, and when the oily groove of ‘Badlands’ gets ya, or the gargantuan power of ‘Nervous Shakedown’ smacks ya, and the brainless hard rock of ‘Guns For Hire’ finishes ya off, you’ll realize that the world is a better place once you flick the switch.
Following 5 years of colossal success and monstrous, almost circus-like tours, AC/DC decided to go back-to-bluesy-basics with ‘Flick…’. A decidedly understated white and grey cover was matched by a less hooky, chunkier sound. By their standards, the album bombed, and subsequent years have seen it maligned by ‘DC fans and largely forgotten by hard rock history. In one sense, this is a little unfair. ‘Flick…’ is certainly a more consistent and ballsy record than its predecessor, 1981’s ‘For Those About To Rock….’, and it’s rawer, grittier sound has aged far better than the cumbersome ‘Fly On The Wall’ and ‘Blow Up Your Video’, which both suffered from being drenched in production.
One consequence of this back-to-the-roots approach was the ejection of Mutt Lange, the uber-producer who had helped ‘DC craft their biggest-selling records – ‘Highway To Hell’ and ‘Back In Black’ – cleaning up their sound and forcing them to structure their songs around hooks rather than histrionics. In one sense this pays dividends. ‘Flick…’ sees the band at full power for much of the time, and rattles out of the speakers with a richer guitar roar and crunchier riffs, which makes the cheeky boogie of the title track, the pure abandon of ‘Rising Power’, and the chunky blues of ‘This House Is One Fire’ irresistible. And yet, the absence of Mutt left significant holes. ‘DC have never been a band to over-do dynamics and arrangements, but the monotony of having so many tunes at mid-pace, added to the absence of anything resembling a passable hook in ‘Bedlam In Belgium’, ‘Brain Shake’ and ‘Landslide’ resulted in a record which felt much longer than its 37 minutes. Before ‘Highway….’ AC/DC were a rampant and spontaneous blues-rock powerhouse who were at their best when capturing songs in the moment and jamming them out: Lange trained that out of them in favour of more conventional pop-rock structures, and when he was gone they had the template but little dynamism. Witness ‘Deep In the Hole’ – rarely has a double-entendre felt so tired.
But looking for sophistication in AC/DC is like searching for wisdom from the Kardashians – it ain’t there. So it’s dangerous to over-analyse them, and when the oily groove of ‘Badlands’ gets ya, or the gargantuan power of ‘Nervous Shakedown’ smacks ya, and the brainless hard rock of ‘Guns For Hire’ finishes ya off, you’ll realize that the world is a better place once you flick the switch.
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