If rock ‘n’ roll is a wild beast, then Deep Purple is the howling, fire-breathing monster that dragged it kicking and screaming into the ‘70s. They weren’t just a band; they were a sonic blitzkrieg that rewired the very DNA of heavy music. With a lineup that shifted like tectonic plates and a sound that fused blues, classical, and pure unhinged madness, Deep Purple carved their name into the annals of rock history. And while their discography is a treasure trove of earth-shattering riffs and godlike musicianship, three albums stand taller than the rest—monuments to a time when music was loud, raw, and dangerous. Let’s count them down.

3. Machine Head (1972)

The album that made them gods. If Deep Purple had a battle cry, it was Machine Head—a relentless barrage of proto-metal power wrapped in a haze of smoke, beer, and burnt rubber. From the legendary opening riff of “Smoke on the Water” (the riff that every kid with a guitar has butchered at least once) to the warp-speed insanity of “Highway Star” and the bluesy strut of “Lazy,” this album is an unrelenting assault on the senses. Ritchie Blackmore’s guitar blazes, Jon Lord’s organ thunders like a cathedral collapsing, and Ian Gillan shrieks like he’s got an exorcist on speed dial. It’s an album so good, even the roadies got inspired and burned down a casino for it.

2. Burn (1974)

Change can kill a band or make them immortal. Burn was the sound of Deep Purple refusing to die. Gillan and bassist Roger Glover were out, and in came David Coverdale with his bluesy swagger and Glenn Hughes with his bass wizardry. What resulted was a band rejuvenated, reckless, and ready to tear the world apart. The title track alone is a firestorm—Blackmore’s fingers should’ve caught fire during that solo. “Mistreated” is pure bluesy agony, and “You Fool No One” is a funk-fueled detonation. They weren’t just keeping up with the times; they were running ahead of them, daring anyone to catch up.

1. In Rock (1970)

This is where it all truly began. In Rock wasn’t an album—it was a goddamn declaration of war. The moment “Speed King” detonates in a cacophony of feedback and fury, you know you’re in for something otherworldly. Deep Purple wasn’t just playing rock; they were redefining it, pushing it into overdrive. “Child in Time” is ten minutes of pure catharsis, with Gillan screaming his lungs into oblivion over a build-up that could make the dead rise. Every track on In Rock is a punch to the gut, a call to arms, a challenge to anyone who thought rock ‘n’ roll was just about catchy hooks and nice melodies. This was the primal scream of a band that had found its purpose and was ready to take over the world.

Deep Purple didn’t just contribute to rock—they helped forge the very template for heavy music as we know it. Without them, there is no metal, no shred gods, no grandiose, operatic, take-no-prisoners approach to rock. These albums—Machine Head, Burn, and In Rock—aren’t just classics; they’re necessities. They demand to be played loud, to shake the walls, to wake the neighbors. If you haven’t absorbed these records into your bloodstream yet, do it now. Your ears will never be the same again. And always, rock on!