Album Review: AC/DC - Power Up

In much the same way that Mr T proved quantum physics to be, as suspected, a heap of jibba jabba by driving the A-Team van back in time, the collected works of AC/DC expose the Platonic theory of forms as a load of old nonsense. I pity that Greek fool, who argued that the real world could never match up to ideas, for he obviously never experienced the majesty of The ‘DC in flight. They are as great a “concept” as they are blasting in your lughole; a rock n’ roll band that rock, with a purity that, were it cocaine, would take your head clean off.

Acca Dacca album seventeen will, of course, engender the regular bullshit from the cool kids, that it’s just more of the same. Respectfully, they need to shut their lentil smoothie slurping cakeholes. You don’t expect Niagara Falls to flow back upwards now and again, just for a bit of variety. You don’t gaze upon the Grand Canyon and expect it to change colour, just to be different. This is the fuckin’ 'DC for fuck’s sake, as elemental as they are eternal. All you need do is put Power Up on - or PWR/UP as it is fashioned, because of course it is - and shake a leg to boogie behemoths like the great ‘Shot In The Dark’, the arse-kicking ‘Money Shot’, the “ah, ah, ah ahh” of ‘Realize’, or the trouser-snake-throb of ‘Wild Reputation’. They’re all driven, as the rest of the record is, by riffs, drums and screaming you could confidently send off to war.

Let us take that lead single 'Shot In The Dark' as just one example of their undeniable greatness. Not a note is wasted or out of place. While other "rock" "bands" might be tempted to prop up failing careers, the boots of which should have been hung up decades ago, by bringing in an orchestra or, God help us, hiring some Herbert to try and catch the ear of the fickle mob with a "club remix", The 'DC have neither time nor need for such trifles. This is rock that lands like a boulder into a glasshouse, released - not "dropped", never use that word when speaking of the 'DC, lest they drop you, with a kick - in order that something might be salvaged from the shit-scented candle that is 2020. This is not some diluted aberration, this is the real thing, rock without any dodgy unpronounceable flavour enhancers added. I'm not a doctor, but I think this can be safely hooked directly into the veins. Better yet, spend extra money on the stupid special edition yoke with the light on it so that you might fashion an altar in the corner of your living quarters and genuflect before it in thanks, several times a day.

Is there anything here on a par with such masterpieces as Powerage, Highway To Hell, or Back In Black? Of course there isn’t, but disparaging Power Up for that reason is like bad mouthing Manaslu because it isn’t quite Everest. It’s still monumentally impressive, it’s still The ‘DC. Long may we salute them.