Black Ice

AC/DC have stuck to their guns with electrifying results.

In other words, Black Ice is a quintessential, if not exactly essential, AC/DC album.

In a postmodern age of irony and cynicism, of self-absorbed navel-gazing, when too many bands want to make vapid political statements and shallow social commentary, AC/DC reliably deliver the goods: solid blues-based rock ‘n’ roll that gets the blood pumping and the air guitar strumming.

Quality stuff. Sorta like 'Send for the Man,' but better.

"Back In Back" it ain't, but it's certainly a real return to form. [Nov 2008, p.102]

Like all AC/DC records, this is a troubling one to love.

Scattered predictability aside, AC/DC still sound strong and hungry 35 years on, as if they could pulverize riffs in perpetuity.

It's a strong album that rarely skimps on gut-churning guitars.

Johnson yelps at one point--making it clear that his band still finds resonance in words that were clichéd by 1956. And for that, you've got to salute them.

Black Ice is far better than anyone could have hoped, played by people who by their age should know better.

Black Ice is, in many respects, just a consolidation of all AC/DC’s strengths and/or perceived weaknesses in one easily-digested package. Yes, there is filler among the killers, but in large measure what you have here is grade-A, late-vintage rawk with no frills and most of the thrills intact.

The appeal of AC/DC lies with their more-than-30-year-old commitment to the same no-frills metal groove. But that groove now seems in danger of becoming a rut.

It's a record aimed at the band's existing audience, and far more important than any qualitative highs and lows is the fact that everything you might expect is present and correct.

If Black Ice has a weakness, it’s that it betrays an anxiety. As if AC/DC really might be uncharacteristically worried that their grasp on the planet is in danger of slipping. As if they’ve tried to discreetly update their sound, while hoping that their rebarbative old fans won’t notice what they’ve done. Invincibility suits AC/DC. Self-doubt, even a microscopic hint of it, does not.

Half of their new truckload feels typically phoned-in. But sometimes they surprise you, nailing the signature sounds of their '70s boogie-metal brethren. [Nov 2008, p.72]

AC/DC still can sound invigorating - and make no mistake they do here, as much as they ever do on a latter-day record - but they just need to tighten up, cut back, crank it up and sound a little rude again.

The seemingly ageless Australian rock combo mostly employs its same tried-and-true formula on the audio side of the Black Ice equation.

After an eight-year hiatus, these hard rock legends return to the music scene with a banging album that has just a little less bite than others past.

Black Ice is the album AC/DC were always going to make. It wasn't broken. They didn't need to fix it. [Nov 2008, p.119]

As with anything, there's catch; the 'good' only lasts four songs and about fifteen minutes out of a fifteen song, fifty-five minute record.

Black Ice may sound like a vintage AC/DC record in a superficial way, thanks to producer Brendan O’Brien and engineer Mike Fraser, but having Brian Johnson squeal dumb cliché phrases--three of the 15 songs have “rock ’n’ roll” in the title while a fourth has “rocking”--over a steady 4/4 thump is going to bore even their most ardent followers.

For those who truly want to rock around the clock, Black Ice never brings the heat.