When the going gets tough—too many long nights and drunken fights—Turbo Fruits get going. “Motorcycle, please take my problems away,” frontman Jonas Stein sings on “Harley Dollar Bill$,” leaving hopelessness in his dust. On their third album, these Nashville bashers drink, gamble, play with guns and get their hearts broken, but they find redemption where they can—sometimes on the open road, mostly in the righteous dude-rock riffs and power-pop choruses that permeate the disc. Marrying mangy garage thrash and cheesy bandana-on-the-mic-stand boogie, the Fruits are those rare purists whose commitment to formula validates the form. Rock ain’t dead, but it’s rarely this alive.

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