Cheap Trick – ‘All Washed Up’

(BMG)

Some bands age like fine wine. Others age like that multi-pack of cheap lager you forgot in the boot of your car after a summer festival that should definitely be left unopened. Cheap Trick, now somehow Twenty-One albums deep, have chosen a third path on All Washed Up: they age like a battle-scarred dive pub jukebox. Dinged up, occasionally unreliable, but still capable of blasting out a song that makes you stop mid-sip and say, “Damn…that still works.”

Let’s address the title first. All Washed Up is either a self-deprecating joke, a middle finger to critics, or a brutally honest shrug from a band that’s been hearing the phrase for decades. The truth is probably “all of the above.” Cheap Trick have never been strangers to irony, and this album leans into it hard. The title sets expectations low and then, in classic Cheap Trick fashion, they kick a few holes right through them.

This is not a comeback album because you can’t come back if you never really left. Cheap Trick have been consistently releasing records for decades, mostly ignored by mainstream rock media but devoured by fans who understand the deal: you show up, Robin Zander sings his lungs out, Rick Nielsen throws riffs and cartoonish guitar squiggles at the wall, and somewhere between power pop and hard rock, something sticks.

All Washed Up sticks more often than not.

The album opens with the title track a snarling, mid-tempo rocker that sounds like it was written specifically to remind you that Zander, now well into his seventies, still has no business sounding this good. His voice isn’t frozen in time, there’s grain now, a little rasp, but that actually works in the album’s favour.

Rick Nielsen remains Cheap Trick’s secret weapon and biggest liability, sometimes in the same song. His riffs are instantly recognizable, always clever, occasionally goofy and unapologetically Cheap Trick. On All Washed Up, he mostly keeps the novelty tendencies on a tighter leash. When he lets loose, it feels intentional instead of indulgent. The guitar tones are chunky, warm, and satisfyingly unpolished – no modern rock gloss here, just amps that sound like they’ve been working overtime since the Seventies!

Lyrically, this album knows exactly how old it is and that self-awareness is its greatest strength. There are songs about aging, about relevance, about stubborn survival and about still wanting to crank it up even when your knees protest. The band doesn’t try to sound young; they try to sound honest. That alone puts them miles ahead of many legacy acts still chasing trends like confused dads on TikTok.

There’s a power-pop sweetness running through the record, especially in the hooks. Cheap Trick have always been masters of the deceptively simple chorus, and that skill hasn’t evaporated. Several tracks feel tailor-made for late-night drives, windows down, radio up, the kind of songs that don’t demand your full attention but reward you when you give it.

The rhythm section, Tom Petersson and Daxx Nielsen, deserve real credit here. Petersson’s bass still has that signature Cheap Trick thump, anchoring the songs with authority, while Daxx plays with restraint and confidence. No overplaying, no unnecessary flash just solid, road-tested rock drumming that knows when to push and when to lay back.

Cheap Trick open their twenty first album with a title track that dares you to underestimate it. Built on a crunchy, no-frills riff, this song feels like a sarcastic grin aimed directly at anyone who’s ever written the band off. Robin Zander sounds defiant rather than defeated, selling lines about wear and tear with the conviction of someone who’s still clocking in because they want to. It’s not flashy, but it sets the tone.

‘All Wrong Long Gone’ leans harder into Cheap Trick’s power-pop DNA. The chorus is immediate, almost suspiciously catchy, and Rick Nielsen sneaks in a riff that feels simple until you realize it’s been glued to your brain. Lyrically, it’s a breakup song filtered through hindsight and regret, but the upbeat melody keeps it from wallowing. Classic Cheap Trick trickery, sad sentiments wrapped in bright hooks.

‘The Riff That Won’t Quit’ should be a song title of the year contender. This is Rick Nielsen indulging himself, and thankfully, it works. The main guitar figure really does refuse to quit, circling the song like a caffeinated wasp. Zander plays ringmaster, riding the riff with swagger, while the band locks into a garage-rock stomp. It’s not subtle, it’s not deep, and it absolutely knows it. Sometimes rock songs just need to punch the clock and punch you in the face.

‘Bet It All’ is where the album flexes its emotional muscle. It is mid-tempo, melodic and quietly anthemic, with a chorus that feels designed for arms-in-the-air moments at live shows. There’s a sense of risk and commitment baked into the lyrics, career, love, legacy, all wrapped in a melody that sounds vintage without being stale. Zander’s vocal performance here is one of the album’s standouts.

Cheap Trick have always been sneaky romantics and ‘The Best Thing’ proves they haven’t lost the touch. It’s warm, almost tender, built around chiming guitars and a chorus that feels sincere rather than syrupy. It’s the kind of song they’ve made their whole career, but the maturity in Zander’s voice gives it extra weight. You believe him when he sings it now.

One of the album’s more mysterious tracks ‘Twelve Gates’ slows things down and adds a slightly darker tone. The lyrics hint at judgment, reckoning, and reflection, while the arrangement keeps things restrained and moody. Nielsen resists the urge to overplay, letting atmosphere do the heavy lifting. It’s not an instant grabber, but it rewards repeat listens.

Things kick back up with ‘Bad Blood’ a tough, riff-driven rocker that sounds built for sweaty club floors and cheap beer. The chorus has bite, the rhythm section hits with authority and the song doesn’t overstay its welcome. This is Cheap Trick reminding you they can still sound mean when they want to. No nostalgia required.

‘Dancing With The Band’ is pure joy. This track feels like a love letter to being onstage, on the road, and still chasing that feeling of connection. The melody bounces, the chorus lifts and Zander sounds genuinely happy. There’s a looseness here that suggests the band is having fun and when Cheap Trick have fun, it’s contagious.

‘Love Gone’ pulls things back again, pairing melancholy lyrics with a deceptively bright arrangement. The contrast works beautifully. Zander delivers the vocal with restraint, letting the emotion creep in rather than explode. It’s one of the album’s quieter highlights, proving Cheap Trick don’t need volume to make an impact.

‘A Long Way To Worcester’ is classic road-song Cheap Trick, part tour diary, part inside joke, all attitude. The groove rolls along like asphalt under tires and Nielsen peppers the track with sly guitar fills. You don’t need to know why Worcester matters; it’s the journey that counts. Fans will eat this one up.

The closer ‘Wham Boom Bang’ lives up to its name. Loud, punchy, and unapologetically ridiculous, it feels like Cheap Trick smashing the door on their way out, amps buzzing and smiles intact. It’s not deep but it’s memorable and it leaves the album on a high note.

Is All Washed Up perfect? Not even close. There are a few tracks that blur together, a couple of melodies that feel like distant cousins of older, better songs and moments where the album threatens to drift into pleasant but forgettable territory. But here’s the thing: Cheap Trick have earned the right to be occasionally forgettable, especially when the highs still hit this hard.

And there are highs. Songs that remind you why this band has survived changing tastes, formats and generations of critics who stopped paying attention decades ago. When Cheap Trick lock into a groove, Zander soaring, Nielsen snarling, the band sounding tight but loose in that magical Cheap Trick way it’s hard not to grin.

All Washed Up doesn’t try to rewrite the band’s legacy. It doesn’t beg for relevance or chase radio play. Instead, it sounds like a group of seasoned musicians walking into the studio, plugging in, and saying, “Let’s make a Cheap Trick record.” And somehow, that’s still enough.

If you’re expecting another Live at Budokan, stop. If you’re expecting a dignified, sleepy victory lap, you’ll be pleasantly surprised. All Washed Up is scrappy, self-aware, and stubbornly alive just like the band that made it.

Cheap Trick may call themselves washed up, but judging by this album, the water’s still running, the amps are still loud, and the jukebox still works. You just have to know where to stand when it starts shaking the room.

7/10

Essential Track – ‘All Wrong Long Gone’

Review by Woody