AC/DC in the Bon Scott years was a glorious, reckless, beer-foamed lifestyle choice that somehow kept sounding like the best decision you ever made. Their riffs were simple and savage, their rhythm tighter than your last pair of leather pants, and Bon was the poet laureate of the beautifully depraved. With that in mind, let’s kick down the door and count ’em down.

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#3 –High Voltage (1976)

High Voltage is the moment AC/DC walked into the world’s living room, kicked over the lamp, and pissed on the rug to make damn sure everyone knew they’d arrived. It’s raw, it’s hungry, and it still smells like the inside of a practice room where someone definitely chain-smoked through rehearsal. “It’s a Long Way to the Top” remains the national anthem for every poor bastard who ever tried to haul an amp up a flight of stairs, and “Live Wire” is the sound of the power grid short-circuiting under the weight of Angus Young’s schoolboy demons. This album replaced polish with a dented, cracked, and glorious sound. A hell of a debut.

2. Let There Be Rock (1977)

Let There Be Rock is AC/DC realizing that subtlety is for cowards and priests, and deciding instead to weaponize every riff like a beer-soaked chainsaw. “Go Down” kicks the doors open first, a filthy, blues-slathered tribute to wild nights and straight up fucking debauchery. “Whole Lotta Rosie” is a mean riff driven juggernaut of a track that has Bon immortalizing a larger-than-life lover with a voice that sounds like it’s been dragged across asphalt and fed whiskey for courage. Angus and Malcolm slash through the mix like electrical storms having fistfights, the rhythm section hammers the earth flat beneath them, and the title track itself is a cathedral-shaking sermon delivered at maximum volume. This is AC/DC discovering their final form and daring the rest of the world to keep up.

1. Highway to Hell (1979)

This is it. The snarling, swinging, devil-grinning masterpiece of the 70’s. Highway to Hell is AC/DC at their most lethal: tight, lean, and dripping with swagger. Every track feels like a bar fight about to break out—“Girls Got Rhythm” struts, “Touch Too Much” seduces, “Shot Down in Flames” shrugs off rejection like a goddamn champion. AC/dc delivers the ultimate performance of their young life, sounding like they already knew the highway’s destination and floored the gas anyway. This album is a brass-knuckled farewell kiss from one of the greatest motherfucking frontmen who ever lived.

AC/DC with Bon Scott didn’t give two shits about complexity or cleverness. They were about truth. These albums are time capsules from an era when rock ’n’ roll was dangerous, sweaty, and gloriously stupid in all the right ways. They remind us that music doesn’t need to be overthought—sometimes it just needs to punch you in the chest and make you feel like you could headbutt the moon. These three records are the backbone of that philosophy. Put them on, crank them loud, and rock on, you magnificent animal.