Bad Bob Bates – Car Trouble (2026)
Reviewed by Matt James • 2 February 2026
There’s a particular pleasure in watching an artist lean fully into the thing they do best. For Bad Bob Bates, the musical alter‑ego of Chris Davison, that “thing” is storytelling with a wink, a bruise, and a blues‑soaked grin. Car Trouble, his latest seven‑track collection recorded at The Old Church Studio in Thropton and produced by Adam Forster, is a compact, characterful showcase of everything that makes Bad Bob Bates such a compelling presence on record and on stage. It’s warm, witty, rough‑edged in all the right places, and delivered with the kind of charisma that can’t be faked.
Bad Bob Bates has long been known for his sharp eye for human behaviour, the tiny absurdities, the private heartbreaks, the moments of comedy that slip into tragedy and back again. On Car Trouble, he doubles down on that instinct, offering songs that feel lived‑in, unvarnished, and deeply relatable. These aren’t grand epics; they’re snapshots, overheard confessions, and late‑night mutterings set to blues riffs and battered‑but‑hopeful melodies.
The album opens with the title track, a fuzz‑drenched, upbeat blues number that uses car woes as a metaphor for life’s more stubborn misfortunes. Distorted vocals and a driving drum performance from producer Adam Forster give the song a gritty swagger. Bad Bob Bates sounds like a man laughing through the chaos, and the effect is infectious.
Opening with a harmonica‑led blues shuffle featuring Mick Davison’s expressive blowing “Don’t Tell the Bride” also features Bad Bob Bates The Bates Motel compadre Ally Lee’s providing additional guitar work. This track leans into Bad Bob Bates’ humour. It’s loose, lively, and knowingly mischievous, the kind of song that feels like it was written with a grin and recorded with a raised eyebrow.
Slowing the pace, “Foundry Lane” brings acoustic guitars to the forefront. It’s a gentler, more reflective moment, the kind of track that invites the listener to lean in. Bad Bob Bates’ voice carries a quiet ache here, proving he can land emotional weight without ever tipping into sentimentality.
“No‑one Told Me” is a down‑on‑your‑luck blues tune with alt‑rock DNA, this track nods toward Pavement and Phish while remaining unmistakably Bad Bob Bates. It’s a song about escape, or at least the fantasy of it, with one of the album’s most memorable lines:
“Gonna hook up my girlfriend’s fold‑up caravan, then I can make me a brand new plan.”
It’s scrappy, hopeful, and delivered with a shrug that says, “Well, why not?”
The guitars get heavier and the drums hit harder on “Silent Screen.” This is an ode to falling in love with a silent movie star, a concept that sounds whimsical but lands with surprising sincerity. Bad Bob Bates taps into nostalgia without ever sounding stuck in the past, giving the track a cinematic sweep.
Built on a sweet shuffle beat “Take What You Got” is one of the album’s most uplifting moments. Bad Bob Bates sings about squeezing every drop out of life, offering the simple but resonant reminder:
“You gotta take what you got and squeeze it ‘til it’s dry.”
It’s earnest without being cloying, and the groove is irresistible.
Closing the album with a bang, “You Looked Good” is an old‑school boogie rocker that channels classic Quo energy. Everything is cranked up, everything is fun, and Bad Bob Bates leans into the party spirit with lines referencing Grand Funk and wry observations like:
“You look good, but I was stoned,”
and
“You’re still sober and I’m still drunk.”
It’s cheeky, loud, and designed to be played at full volume.
This is a cohesive, confident release. Across these seven tracks, Bad Bob Bates plays everything except the drums, and that DIY spirit gives Car Trouble its charm. The performances are tight but never sterile; the production is polished but still lets the grit shine through. There’s not a weak moment here, each song earns its place, each one offering a different shade of Bad Bob Bates’ musical personality.
What really elevates the album is Bad Bob Bates himself. His voice, his humour, his knack for turning everyday frustrations into miniature blues operas, it all adds up to a record that feels both intimate and entertaining. Whether he’s channelling classic boogie rock, acoustic melancholy, or fuzz‑heavy blues, he does it with a confidence that comes from years of honing his craft on stage and in the studio.
Fans of his live work, whether solo or with The Bates Motel, will recognise the energy and storytelling flair. New listeners will find an artist who knows exactly who he is and what he wants to say.
Car Trouble is a top‑tier effort from Bad Bob Bad Bob Bates: funny, heartfelt, musically sharp, and packed with personality. It’s the kind of album that rewards repeat listens, each spin revealing another sly line or subtle musical detail. With its limited CD release and download available via Bandcamp, it feels like a gem waiting to be discovered, a small but mighty record from an artist who continues to grow without losing the rough‑edged charm that makes him so distinctive.
