When Stephen King set out to make the 1986 film Maximum Overdrive (the only film he ever directed), he knew exactly who he wanted to produce the music for the soundtrack—AC/DC.
And in order to show AC/DC how much he loved their music, he sat them down and sang over their song “Ain’t No Fun (Waiting Round to Be a Millionaire)”–all six minutes and fifty-four seconds of it. I don’t know if King attempted a Brian Johnson imitation as he did this. But the band promptly said, “Okay, sure, count us in.” I suspect it was out of fear that King would follow “Ain’t No Fun” with a version of “Big Balls.”
The film was a monumental flop. It was so bad that King himself would later call it “a moron movie.” The band didn’t think much of it either (“…when we watched his film we thought it should be made into a comedy to be honest,” said Malcolm Young). Their opinion was shared by every marsupial in Oz. And said one outraged dingo drily, “THIS is the baby we should have eaten.”
By contrast, the soundtrack by every rock-loving sentient being’s favorite band from Down Under is merely a disappointment. 1986’s Who Made Who could have been the unofficial Greatest Hits record by a band that has never released a Greatest Hits record.
It isn’t for three reasons. The first is song selection. The second stems from King’s request that the band write some original songs for the soundtrack, and two of the three songs the band came up with were instrumentals. The third is the Who Made Who soundtrack, which includes only one Bon Scott number.
Instrumentals? Screech-free songs by AC/DC? Crikey! And only one Bon Scott song, and it ISN’T “Highway to Hell”? This journo is as cross as a frog in a sock. And I call dingo shit!
Per song selection—you won’t find “T.N.T.,” “Back in Black,” “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap,” “Girls Got Rhythm,” “Rock and Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution,” “Night Prowler,” “Whole Lotta Rosie,” “Riff Raff,” “Let There be Rock,” “It’s a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock ‘n’ Roll),” or, and I grow faint just thinking about it, “Highway to Hell.” And plenty more come to mind, but I haven’t got all day here, people!
Instead, you get “Shake Your Foundations” and “Sink the Pink.” These occupy the No. 87 and No. 88 spots, respectively, in Ranker’s Top 100 AC/DC songs, as ranked by fans. In short, even the AC/DC faithful don’t think much of them. And while “Ride On” features a bravura vocal performance by Bon Scott and is a credit to a country that began its life as a penal colony, his bravura shines brighter on plenty of other songs. If you can only pick one Bon Scott song, what sane person would pick this one?
The only absolutely essential songs on Who Made Who are “You Shook Me All Night Long,” “Hell’s Bells,” and “For Those About to Rock (We Salute You).” And, okay, you get “Ride On” and the title track, the only non-instrumental the boys created for the soundtrack. And while any album with these songs on it is nothing to sneeze at, when you think about what might have been, it’s enough to say fuck the shrimp and throw yourself on the barbie.
There are those who hold Who Made Who in high esteem. None other than Chuck Eddy put it at the No. 89 slot on his list of the 500 Best Heavy Metal Albums in the Universe. Then again, Eddy’s abiding characteristic is perversity, and the proof lies in the fact that he writes, “And if you’re dumb enough to have room for [only?] one AC/DC slab, this might as well be it.”
This is terrible advice. Dangerous advice, even. This is like advising a mate to buy a chainsaw to trim his sideburns. And the reason is that the album is all very high highs and very low lows. If you’re dumb enough to have room for only one AC/DC record, make it Highway to Hell. Or Back in Black. Or Let There Be Rock. Or High Voltage.
Hell, just buy Highway to Hell and be done with it. Then sneak out and buy High Voltage and Let There Be Rock and Back in Black and High Voltage. Because nobody should be dumb enough to own only one AC/DC LP.
The three sure-fire winners include one—“For Those About to Rock (We Salute You)”—that I’ve never been wild about. It’s anthemic, sure, but I’ve never looked for anthems from AC/DC—I leave that to Queen, and dislike them for it. Even the cannonade leaves me cold.
“Hells Bells” established AC/DC as a kind of Aussie Black Sabbath in my mind–those bells toll for me, and the way the long intro leads to Brian Johnson’s scratch/scream, “If you’re into evil, you’re a friend of mine,” always gives me the thrilling willies.
As for “You Shook Me All Night Long,” it’s only the greatest pop song AC/DC ever wrote—the killer riff was made in Australia, the thighs were made in America, and they’ll knock you out. Do I need to add that it includes one of the greatest choruses in rock history? Or that the guitar solo is perfect? Or that the automotive metaphors come at you so fast you’ll think you’re standing on a busy freeway?
“Ride On” is a BALLAD for Crocodile Dundee’s sake, and should the great Bon Scott really be remembered for a ballad? No, but there’s no denying that it’s one of his most impressive vocal performances, like Ronnie Van Zant. Scott displays a wry sense of humor and a surprisingly supple voice and command of dynamics. The semi-chuckle that follows “One of these days, I’m going to change my evil ways” always knocks me out. Ditto the way he later follows the same line with “One of these days” (pause) “One of these days.” And the guitar solo blows me away.
I’ve never liked the Robo-drums that open “Who Made Who,” and I’ve always gotten the sense that this was an attempt by AC/DC to adapt to the times. But what I’ve always loved about AC/DC is that their best music is timeless, like the music of Chuck Berry.
Supposedly, the lyrics are confusing and complex, but I’ve never been able to make them out, and I’ve never been inclined to check a lyric sheet, so who cares? Evidently, the band had to explain them to King, who didn’t like them. But once again, who cares? Loving AC/DC for their lyrics makes no more sense than loving Lynyrd Skynyrd for their fashion sense.
“Sink the Pink” has this complex-by-AC/DC standards opening that puts me off, and the monster guitar riff can’t compensate for the lack of a brutally memorable melody. Chuck Eddy says it’s about playing snooker, but the snooker’s a subplot at best, and the line “Gimme water, gimme wine” has always confused me—I like to think that AC/DC’s attitude towards the world’s most faceless beverage is the same as W.C. Field’s: it’s to be avoided, because fish fuck in it.
“Shake Your Foundations” is a poor man’s “You Shook Me All Night Long”—I don’t like the sound of the guitars, and the chorus is only so-so. It’s simply not a memorable song. Even Johnson’s vocals come up short. And the guitar break is too frilly for my tastes—I think I actually hear a doily in there.
The instrumentals make me think the boys were simply too lazy to come up with lyrics. I know movies have incidental music, but “Chase the Ace” is a guitar riff in search of a song and a singer, and while the guitar pyrotechnics impress, I don’t look to AC/DC for pyrotechnics. In short, “Chase the Ace” is a dirty deed done too cheap.
“D.T.” features a titanic drum beat and a humongous guitar riff, but it goes nowhere, and it goes there more slowly than a crocodile swimming through Vegemite. Come to think of it, even vocals wouldn’t save this one—it doesn’t grab you by the throat, it sticks in it. A throwaway, and a bad throwaway at that.
Who Made Who could have been definitive proof that AC/DC were the best hard rock band since Led Zeppelin and Australia’s answer to the no-frills, stick-to-the-knitting Ramones. In short, it could have been their legacy, at least as of 1986, and I’m one of those people who think AC/DC recorded most of their best songs by 1986.
Who Made Who is no disgrace. But it’s a patchwork effort that won’t shake you all night long. Who Made Who is a far, far better thing than the film it was made for. But for those about to rock, I strongly advise you to rock elsewhere.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B-
