AC/DC, "Highway to Hell"

CJ takes us on a road trip straight down

CJ’s Pitch:

Several years ago, I was in St. Augustine, Florida for four days on a commercial shoot that only took half a day to film. Given that we had a lot of free time and a limited number of places to spend it, we found ourselves in a dive bar on the outskirts of town one night.

While drinking cheap beer amidst a crowd of desultory 20-somethings, I noticed an old turntable and a box of records behind the bar. I asked the bartender if we could play some tunes and not only did he agree, but he went so far as to hook the turntable up to the bar’s sound system. I thumbed through the records until I came across the subject of today’s pitch, AC/DC’s Highway to Hell. Flipping the album over to Side 2, I dropped the needle on “If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It)”. Immediately, the bar sprang to life as those bored millennials heard actual music for the first time in their aimless lives. As they had many times before, AC/DC rocked the house.

Highway to Hell is AC/DC at their most raw, unapologetically singing about sex and partying and fighting. There’s nothing redeeming or self-reflective whatsoever. Even the title was a big F-U to prissy people everywhere. At the time, using the word hell in the title of an album immediately had the church groups up in arms (and caused a tingling sensation in the hypothalamus of a young Tipper Gore). It was also an evolution in the sound of the band, which was due largely in part to the addition of one man—producer Robert John “Mutt” Lange.

I rarely talk about producers, but my man Mutt is one-of-a-kind. Not only did he produce H2H and Black in Black for Acca Dacca, but he also produced Def Leppard’s “Pyromania” and “Hysteria”, which means he’s responsible for a handful of the biggest selling albums of all time. Then, he parlayed his success into a marriage with smoking hot country star Shania Twain at the peak of her smoking hotness. Not too shabby.

At the insistence of the record company, Mutt took over for Angus and Malcolm Young’s older brother, George, who had reached the limits of his abilities. Mutt stepped into a studio with the tiny and angry Young brothers, a notoriously taciturn Bon Scott and the two unreformed juvenile delinquents who made up the rhythm section. And because he had the musical chops and the testicular fortitude to stand up to that mob, he helped them create what many feel is their signature album.

I love all the songs on this album with perhaps the only exception being “Love Hungry Man” (hey, nobody’s perfect). The opening strains of the title cut are among the most famous in hard rock. “Girls Got Rhythm”, “Walk All Over You” and “Touch Too Much” are simple, sleazy sex songs, the last of which features the lyrics:

She had the face of an angel

Smiling with sin

A body of Venus with arms

(I love the fact that they had to clarify that her body had arms, unlike the actual statue. It’s like an art lesson for the depraved.)

“Beating Around the Bush” is a boogie track where Bon Scott really shines. I’m not going to litigate the Bon vs. Brian argument here, but Brian really has to strain to achieve his vocal histrionics whereas Bon does it like he’s falling out of bed (probably after beating around the bush).

“Shot Down in Flames”, “Get it Hot”, the aforementioned “If You Want Blood” and even the creepy “Night Prowler” are enjoyable listening anytime. Just like in that bar in St. Augustine, you can put on Highway to Hell and wherever you are turns into a blast.

Well, I gotta head out now. I’m goin’ down, it’s party time and I hope my friends Mitch and Ken are gonna be there too.

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Mitch’s Response:

This week provided me with a wonderful opportunity to meditate on my long-standing dislike for AC/DC. Is it the basic music or the base lyrics that drive me away? Is it the band’s image (silly schoolboy outfit) or the image of the band’s fans (skeevy mustaches in shop class)? Or is it just the fact that listening to AC/DC leaves me feeling colder than a rattler on a slithery-doo in the outback?

I’ve always thought of AC/DC  - with the exception of Back in Black - as a singles band, with each album having one hit and a whole lotta shit. True to form, the Highway to Hell is paved with a whole lotta shitty, but this time even the hit song is mediocre at best, and I honestly hate every single track on this album. 

I’m torn between Bon Scott’s shrill vocal delivery and Angus Young’s shrill guitar tone when trying to identify what makes this album such a tedious listen. Sure, the rhythm section and Malcolm’s chords are powerful and solid, but ultimately they’re in service to nothing, just an endless shock of schlock rawk.

The only positive association I have with AC/DC is the time that CJ and I took my son and his friend to see them at Gillette Stadium. Our seats were at the very top of the stadium, the sound was terrible, and the crowd was sketchy as hell, but we parked at this restaurant that had a back exit to a local road (no highway!) and we somehow got home with literally no traffic. The whole trip I played Charlie Parker, praying that the power of Bird's horn could exorcise those fucking $30 commemorative devil horns from my life forevermore.

• Pitch Failed (terrible band, great parking)

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Ken’s Response:

By 1986, almost every kid I knew had established ties to Australia in two completely different ways: they owned AC/DC’s Back In Black on vinyl, cassette or CD, and they had seen Crocodile Dundee, starring the authentically Australian Paul Hogan.  It was a ridiculously premised film about an American reporter (Linda Kozlowski) who travels to the outback to interview the legendary Mike Dundee.  She is so in awe (and a bit smitten) by him that she takes him back to New York City where he becomes amazed by...well, a city.  It was cinema at its best (entertaining) and its worst (unbelievable and kinda stupid).  

Much like this week’s album, Crocodile Dundee was memorable and somewhat entertaining, even if wholly unremarkable.  So allow me to present the Crocodile Dundee Awards to AC/DC’s Highway to Hell.

The “that’s not a knife, this is a knife” award for most insane prop.

I’m not sure how Angus Young’s schoolboy outfit started, but for a guy that’s a pretty good guitarist it seems a little sophomoric.  Although it’s become his signature, for me it takes away from his playing and is nothing more than a distraction.

The “Linda Kozlowski almost got swallowed by a crocodile” award for best moment.

This award goes to Malcolm Young’s incredible and indelible guitar riff on the title track.  Not quite as memorable or popular as his licks on “Back in Black” or “You Shook Me All Night Long”, it is still Malcolm at his best and he is only one of two reasons the band became famous.  Which leads me to…

The “Paul Hogan’s wonderfully and idiosyncratic accent” award for making relatively untalented people famous.

Obviously, I’m talking about Bon Scott and his very strange voice.  Scott is a talented writer and performer, but something about that shrill voice turns me off.  It’s a voice that makes me believe he killed Cyrus and is pursuing Ajax, Cochise and Swan back to Coney Island, rather than singing Aussie hard rock.

The “If I give my heart to you, I’ll have none and you’ll have two” award for sentimentality.

We all love some AC/DC songs, but as Mitch said, they’re more of a greatest hits band.  While “Highway to Hell” and “Girls Got Rhythm” are among my favorites, there is just way too much filler for me.

I suddenly have a hankering for a Bloomin’ Onion.  

• Pitch Failed (cute like a koala, but not enough bite like a croc) 

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CJ’s pitch was not successful and AC/DC’s Highway to Hell has been excommunicated!

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It’s a long way to the top, but it’s a short way to the comments section. Drop by and let us know if you think AC/DC is noise pollution or if Highway to Hell was done dirt cheap.

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Please join us next week as Mitch hitchhikes up to Vermont to hear Phish tell us The Story of the Ghost.

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Exile on Newbury St. is a weekly newsletter competition between 4 friends to see who has the best taste in music. Learn more about us and the rules of the game.