Bryan Adams – Roll With the Punches Review

It must be hard being a rock God. More because you must convince yourself the title is not inherently cringe-inducing than anything else. Bryan Adams and his hits have toured the globe for years on end, and each performance is an inevitable build towards Summer of ‘69, a song which should be banned from public spaces along with Mr. Brightside and Come on Eileen. It is the overplayed radio dad playlist option, a safe spot which brings everyone together without the risk of discovering anything new. That is not to slate Adams as a poor performer – he knows what his fans want and continues to give them exactly that. Why innovate when a blacked-out stage, a slick black outfit and a no-frills rock and roll performance for double denim wearers will do? So Happy It Hurts, his last album, was abysmal rock slop. Roll With the Punches is nothing new, but it shows Adams’ music is more about conviction than creativity. 

No prize for guessing the opening lyrics (hint: it’s the title) but credit where it is due, the consistent guitar rock Adams has pieced together over the decades is given a brief lift here. A reprise of his better works, which he is far removed from. The trouble with Roll With the Punches and the regressive nostalgia rock as a wider concept is the suggestion there is nothing new to learn from the genre. There is plenty we can learn from one man and his guitar, but Adams is set to do nothing but repeat the same knocked-down, pulled-up storytelling. Tame playing makes for weak middle-of-the-road radio music at the best of times, but the tempo change towards the end takes a turn towards garage rock but never commits. A simple message is no excuse for straight-shooting, underwhelmed guitar work.

Just take a listen to any of the aged rockers continuing in the genre. Big Change from Neil Young marks a literal take on the title and yet it becomes an endearing, stomping piece of work. All this comes not from the lyrical context but because a storyteller is what Young is. A man who can mould those simple efforts into a worrisome powerhouse or a tender call to arms. These are juxtapositions which work incredibly well in the rock and roll genre, something Adams is continually missing the purpose in pursuit of safe-sounding work. Where life is all about rolling with the punches, Adams suggests it is a cruise of relative ease. There is no truth to the hardship he paints on this one, and the stripped-back simplicity of standing up again is performative at best.  

Music has moved well beyond the back-and-forth between being knocked down and rising again. Artists of a better cut of cloth began questioning why they were knocked down and the purpose of rising again long before the release of Rolling With the Punches. Adams does not have what it takes to reflect, it would seem. He had this problem with his previous album and the slick image he presents is a hollow shell, as Roll With the Punches proves. Tame music like this is more insulting than those who tried and failed. At least with work that falls flat, there is some sincerity to what went wrong. With Adams, it is hard to hear anything but showy fretwork and a message which would have felt plain and dated if released at his peak, let alone decades later.