Big Balls: Rare And Unseen AC/DC Images From 1976-1981
Rufus Stone Limited Editions
Fleetingly fascinating but ultimately overpriced “limited edition” photo collection.
For a band with such a determinedly no-nonsense musical style, AC/DC never underestimated the value of visuals in rock’n’roll. From the day Angus first pulled on his schoolboy uniform, this has been a band inviting the photographer’s lens. Even in their latter years, from Brian Johnson’s flat cap to the cannons to the pillar-like stance of Malcolm and Cliff either side of the drum riser, there has remained something satisfyingly photogenic about them.
So a photobook devoted to AC/DC makes sense, even if it’s only covering the Bon Scott era and a few Johnson-era sessions. And when it’s accompanied by a sizeable introductory essay by rock writer and long-time Acca Dacca fan Howard Johnson, it is certainly worth further investigation.
And as it turns out, the story he tells, although relatively brief, is the most illuminating thing about the book. After that we get 250 pages of photos from quality rock snappers Dick Barnatt, Michael Putland, George Bodnar, Fin Costello and Martyn Goddard, which, while containing some fine shots, are milked to the point of extensive repetition in order to fill up the book – entire reels of minor variations of the same unremarkable picture of a contract signing or backstage larks are presented as if we’re witnessing supermodels throwing shapes.
They do back up Johnson’s view that, in these early years, this was a band who really were having a blast. And Bon’s devilish charisma shines through even in black and white. But if they were in an exhibition you’d probably pick out a dozen or so, and when you look at other shots these photographers have taken of the band, they’re not even the best ones. And as a reader, without any captions or explanation for the majority of shots, their appeal is frustratingly limited. Any stories behind the shots? We may never know.
Which might not be such an issue if this was a mass market book, but this limited edition collection (500), admittedly signed by early bassist Mark Evans, retails at £175. And when lacklustre design reinforces the feeling of something produced at no great expense, they’ve certainly got balls to be demanding that. ■■■■■■■■■■