ALBUM REVIEW: 45 Adapters – Unstoppable (Pirates Press Records)
Even though they’ve been around since 2009, this is the debut album by New York City ‘maximum oi! ’n’ b’ band 45 Adapters.
But anyone who’s seen them or come across any of their EPs, singles and splits will know that it’s well worth the wait.
The band describe their music as a truck full of Otis Redding records crashing into a truck full of Cock Sparrer records.
Rooted deep in classic Oi!, they also brings smart Mod sounds, a touch of ’60s soul and reggae, glam, pub rock, and even hints of classic rock to the table.
Revitalised
Founding singer Pickabar and bassist Carlos are back with three new recruits to the band, and 45 Adapters have been revitalised, laying down the album in just two days.
Unstoppable kicks off with the title track, which is about rock ‘n’ roll and how it shapes our lives, and it’s followed in short order by Coming Up Empty, about the vacuous lives we lead nowadays.
But I Can’t is a pacey ska-inflected number about being unable to change the kind of person you are, and it’s confessional chorus “I know I should be different but I can’t” is just waiting to be chanted back at them live.
Making the most of the time we have on this mortal coil seems to be the subject of 86400 (it’s the number of seconds in a day), and it’s a song in a hurry, with slashing guitars, pounding drums and a driving bassline.
45 Adapters do soulful better than most, and that’s the case with Save The Day, where things are dialled down a little and Pickabar’s voice is given room to shine, but the driving riffs are back for the Mod-ish Guilty By Participation, which closes side one.
Standout tracks
If you thought the first side of Unstoppable was good, wait until you hear side two. It starts with Refuse To Die, one of the standout tracks on the album, and indeed of 45 Adapters’ whole career.
It’s a ska-infused love letter to the skinhead scene, but admits in particularly unblinkered fashion: “You can love reggae and still be evil/You can love black music and hate black people/Let’s not pretend we’re all innocent/In the end, we’re drunk and violent”.
Colder, full of slashing guitars, and the swaggering Bent & Broken are also among the album’s highlights, with the band really cooking on gas now, full of vim and vigour, without sacrificing any of their musicality.
Con Man From Queens is a withering putdown of Donald Trump, the US President “born with a silver spoon in his mouth” who “only ever helped himself”, while there’s a thread of positivity running throughout Those Who Quit.
Things are brought to a glorious close with Are You Down?, whose main riff and closing coda seem close relations to that from Thin Lizzy’s The Boys Are Back In Town. They certainly are, and this is one of my favourite albums of the year. 9/10.
