The Adjusters …Always in the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
Pop the Balloon
One of my favourite albums last year was The Adjusters’ debut, Reckless Relations. It was a real slick n’ sleazy punk rock record, and an awfully wonderful surprise to boot, too, seeing as how The Adjusters are a bunch of juveniles. Thankfully, juveniles and delinquency go hand-in-hand, and if you’re going to devote your life to safety pin suicide, you need to spoil the disenfranchised with a sound they can dance to. Well, The Adjusters are back — slightly older and hopefully none the wiser — with a brand new single, …Always in the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time, and while it doesn’t quite match the raw unpredictability of their debut, it does posses a stronger sense of craftsmanship and melody. Side A’s offering, “Wrong Place, Wrong Time,” is a street savvy ivory n’ blues rocker that sounds something like the Dead Boys bustin’ jukeboxes in a soda shop, while the flip-side’s “You Gotta Say” is a true pop gem bolstered by a Stones-inspired country n’ glam riff and a bunch of ‘woo-hoos’ that roll right along with it. Okay, so it turns out The Adjusters are a little bit wiser, but they still pack enough greasy gumption to give you the two-fingered salute.
Listen to “You Gotta Say” from …Always in the Wrong Place at the Wrong Time!
From The Heart Attacks to Poison Arrows to Biters, the long road of rock n’ roll glory for singer/guitarist Tuk has been littered with trashy riffs, drug problems, and dead ends. The usual suicide story that sticks to every tight-pant Thunders junkie like a safety pin on a worn out leather jacket lands a lot closer to sad than success, but if the stigma doesn’t kill ya, it can only make you stronger, right? Probably, which is why Tuk hopes his latest bubblegum machine, Biters, will break through the bastard cliches and avoid the inevitable burst that comes when you sink your teeth into the cheap, sticky solution of reckless days and wasted nights. Whether that happens remains to be seen, but for now our springboard is this self-titled EP, and goddamn it if it’s not screamin’ at me like a gaggle of teenage groupies. With the five deliciously catchy glam punk ditties on board here, I don’t know how the Biters are ever going to avoid burnin’ out in the gutter like a bunch of high school dropouts. This is some magic marker mayhem, man, part Cheap Trick power pop, part New York Dolls lipstick rock, and all jukebox jive. If the Biters aren’t the biggest band in the world real soon, we’re all doomed.
The Adjusters
Biters