Ac/Dc And The Vinyl With Let There Be Rock That Warped From Being Overplayed

April 3, 2025

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the room, I sat cross-legged on my bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered records. In the center was my prized possession: a worn-out vinyl of AC/DC’s “Let There Be Rock.” This album wasn’t just a set of songs; it was the heartbeat of my teenage years. With every scratch and pop from the needle, I could feel the raw energy of Angus Young’s guitar riffs and Bon Scott’s electrifying voice pouring through the speakers, igniting a fire within my soul. But today, as I examined the record, my heart sank. Its once smooth surface was warped, a casualty of my endless play.

I could remember the first time I slipped that vinyl onto my turntable. It was a chilly winter afternoon when my older brother introduced me to AC/DC. He had blasted “Let There Be Rock,” and I was instantly hooked. The pounding drums and relentless guitars felt like a call to arms, urging me to embrace my passions and live life fearlessly. But as the weeks turned into months, I couldn’t get enough. I played the album on repeat, often dancing wildly in my room, pretending to be on stage alongside the band. Each track became a part of my identity, a soundtrack that powered me through tough days at school and the challenges of growing up.

However, now, with the vinyl warped and practically unplayable, I felt a strange sense of loss. It was as if a chapter of my life was being closed, the music I had loved so deeply slipping through my fingers. I thought back to Bon Scott, AC/DC’s legendary frontman, who had poured his heart into every lyric and melody. He had faced his own struggles, battling personal demons but channeling that pain into some of the most powerful rock music the world had ever heard. His untimely passing in 1980 had left a mark on rock history, but from that tragedy, the band had risen again, with Brian Johnson stepping in to keep the spirit alive. That was resilience; that was passion.

Determined not to let a warped record define my experience with AC/DC, I decided to turn my loss into something positive. I reached out to local record stores to see if they had a replacement vinyl. After searching for weeks, I finally found a pristine copy. When I heard the first crackle of the needle hitting the vinyl, my heart raced. “Let There Be Rock” filled the room anew, and with it, my excitement rekindled. It reminded me of the band’s journey – how they had overcome obstacles and evolved in the face of adversity.

That day, I learned something powerful. Just like AC/DC, who had bounced back after losing their beloved frontman, I could approach my passions with the same spirit of resilience. Instead of mourning the loss of that record, I celebrated the music and the memories it had given me. I realized that while things might bend and warp in life, my love for rock and roll – and the lessons from it – would never fade.

Months later, as I stood onstage at a local talent show, guitar in hand, I felt the same electric energy surge through me that I had felt years ago. I belted out “Let There Be Rock,” embracing every note and lyric, just as Bon Scott would have wanted. I poured my heart into my performance, feeling invincible in that moment. As I took my final bow, I remembered that music isn’t just about the records we own; it’s about the passion we share and the way it shapes our lives. And like AC/DC, we all have the power to rise again, no matter how many times we might bend.