Who Turned the Screw?
When Edie Brickell once asked in song to be choked in the shallow water before she got too deep, she could have solved the problem by simply listening to a lot of AC/DC.
AC/DC will never, ever be considered a deep band. They are the yang to prog rock’s ying, focused almost singularly on the id. They may not have discovered the Land of Crotch Rock, but they were the first to industrialize it.
As an ardent Cheap Trick fan, one who came to love the band at their (and my) horniest, I confess to continuing to love me some AC/DC when all I want to do is Rawk… especially when my crotchal region asks to Rawk with me. Perhaps because it is so entirely unsexual and unhedonistic in its focus, I’ve always held a particular fondness for their 1986 song “Who Made Who.”
The song breaks almost every rule AC/DC seemed to set for itself as a band. It was the first and only time they allowed their music to be used in a movie soundtrack until (for all intents and purposes) “Varsity Blues” paid the band half a million bucks to use “Thunderstruck,” after which I suspect AC/DC was more than happy to negotiate ridiculous amounts for the rights to allow their music to pace a film.
Angus Young wrote “Who Made Who” specifically for inclusion in the Stephen King vehicle* “Maximum Overdrive,” a cheesy movie starring Emilio Estevez where machines wake up and decide humans suck, but done in a much cheesier way than “Terminator” or “Blade Runner” any of the other movies that have explored the dangers of artificial intelligence. Like almost all Stephen King movies, you watch it wondering how in the hell King managed to make the written version scary. (*pun)
Much like the movie that inspired it, “Who Made Who” is a little cheesy and tries to be more intellectual than anyone will give it credit for being. Perhaps that’s why I love the song, because I, too, am a little cheesy and try to be more intellectual than I actually am.
The song’s verses explore — in an amazingly prescient manner — our relationship with technology, one that has only grown more troublesome in the 30 years since the song broke. Video games are ubiquitous (Fortnite, anyone?), and “gamification” has invaded education, banking, commerce, and just about every other corner of modern life. As we keep having to be told, in increasingly harrowing terms, “the databank” knows almost everything about almost everyone. The databank knows every bit of our personal information. The databank knows our habits, our interests, our weaknesses, our perversions. Satellites don’t just see us; they see everything.
Not only is the question of “Who Made Who” being explored in the verses, but also the question of, as Aretha might say, “Who’s Zoomin’ Who?” Are we using technology, or is it using us?
Although it’s perfectly safe to believe the chorus explores our relationship with technology, the question only really makes sense when it goes theological. Did we, the creators of so many useful tools, of so much useful technology, create our Creator? Is the invention of God another of our brilliant innovations, a tool of a different sort, meant to manipulate and control legions of people in ways not even the snazziest sci-fi weapon can? Or dare we believe that something beyond our limited comprehension, something we call “God,” created all things including us li’l ol’ humans?
Yes, AC/DC waxed theological.
However, if you don’t want to question higher powers, it’s worth asking, “Who makes you?” Whom or what do you allow to define yourself, or parts of you? What power have you conceded, willingly or un-, to them? What do you control or create? Over what do you have dominion?
YEAR: 1986
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