In the liner notes to Incesticide, Kurt Cobain described Nirvana, then arguably at the peak of their powers, as “the ’90s version of Cheap Trick”. His curveball declaration sent a generation of grunge kids scurrying to the bargain bins in curiosity and bemusement, there to find a batch of unloved ’80s releases by the Midwest power-pop titans. If they were lucky, they might have scored one of Cheap Trick’s first three albums, with which they scrawled the blueprint for a sound that straddles rock, punk, pop, even metal.
In the liner notes to Incesticide, Kurt Cobain described Nirvana, then arguably at the peak of their powers, as “the ’90s version of Cheap Trick”. His curveball declaration sent a generation of grunge kids scurrying to the bargain bins in curiosity and bemusement, there to find a batch of unloved ’80s releases by the Midwest power-pop titans. If they were lucky, they might have scored one of Cheap Trick’s first three albums, with which they scrawled the blueprint for a sound that straddles rock, punk, pop, even metal.
Formed in Rockford, Illinois in 1973, the classic lineup – deliberately dorky yet eminently skilled guitarist Rick Nielsen, powerhouse singer Robin Zander, chiselled bassist Tom Petersson and drummer Bun E Carlos, cigarette permanently teetering on his lips – were fired up by old-school rock’n’roll (British Invasion as much as American heartland) but also fuelled by the irreverence of punk on their self-titled debut.
The sleeker power-pop primer In Color and its acclaimed follow-up Heaven Tonight established a Cheap Trick cult, but it was stopgap live album Cheap Trick At Budokan that became their blockbusting breakthrough, yielding hit teen anthem “I Want You To Want Me”. This not-that-guilty pleasure band were formative for many musicians of the grunge era: covered by Green Day, with whom they share a cartoony energy, and Big Black, and referenced less obviously by Smashing Pumpkins – Billy Corgan described them as “our Fab Four”. Dave Grohl loves them. Tunes, power, humour. Of course he does.
Twenty million album sales or so down the line, they are Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame inductees who continue to be no respecters of musical boundaries. They have recorded for labels as diverse as Sub Pop and Big Machine Records (the company that discovered Taylor Swift) and worked with producers as distinguished as George Martin and Todd Rundgren and songwriters as commercial as Diane Warren and Mike Chapman (admittedly not with auspicious results), but they are best encountered as a hermetic unit.
These days, Cheap Trick are something of a family cottage industry. Carlos left 15 years ago to be replaced by Nielsen’s son Daxx, while Zander’s son Robin Taylor has been a part of their mean touring machine for the past decade. Like the recently reconvened Alice Cooper Band, they rock with a single-minded dedication to their art that brooks no adulteration, making their 19th album as good an entry point as any to the Cheap Trick universe.
All Washed Up – their first album in over four years, and titled waggishly in reference to their 1980 album All Shook Up – is frontloaded with its heavier tunes, including the powering garage rock of the title track, and its defiantly old-school invitation to “go ahead and touch me” (and its equally discomfiting muttered reply, “I know you wanna”). There are lots of similar sleazy overtures across its heatseeking three and a half minutes, all coloured with Iggy-style menace.
Zander engages in ample Roger Daltrey- esque throat-shredding across the classic rock clamour of “All Wrong Long Gone”, its blunt-force simplicity garnished with pomp orchestration. Cheap Trick have more than earned their right to bouts of autobiography, even the simple acknowledgment that “it’s a long time we’ve been singing this song”. Warming to their theme, they pledge to get their arthritic kicks on rip-roaring power rocker “Dancing With The Band”.
“The Riff That Won’t Quit” is a spin on the rawk-’til-I-die trope, with a cheeky swagger baked into its driving riffola. In this case they are celebrating the enduring appeal of the blues, and in Cheap Trick’s hands it’s stupid and contagious and rounded off with a hoary cackle from Zander. Melodic rocker “Bad Blood” is embellished with some Deep Purple baroque flourishes, while “Bet It All” stomps in on heavy boots of lead, with Zander as the devil on your shoulder pushing the high stakes.
Although “The Best Thing” dices with the cumbersome lexicon of Spinal Tap (“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me in the future of what we got”) and the more lumbering end of the ELO catalogue, they are on happier, signature territory with the power-popping single “Twelve Gates”, a rather impressionistic appeal to unlock a more hopeful future. Politics isn’t the Cheap Trick style but it’s not difficult to imagine where they’re coming from.
Things end on a somewhat whimsical note with “Wham Boom Bang”, a chirpy, strumming tribute to restored health and better times, soundtracked unexpectedly by western swing guitar and tea-dance clarinet. They may not go out with a bang on this occasion, but Cheap Trick’s capacity to surprise prevails.
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