“Rather than mine the pop-punk-y hooks that’ve become the template for the vast majority of punk bands lately, or even really hew close to the garage-rock that’s surged to the surface in recent years, on Deceiver, The Wrong Ones dive straight into the gutter. And while they’re down there, they mix it up with a whole lot of early NYC glam and sleazy, scummy metal, getting and giving a bloody nose and some ripped-up knuckles in the process. More than anything else, what this album makes me think of glam-metal forerunners Hanoi Rocks — like that band, The Wrong Ones ride the line between New York Dolls-style punk and flat-out sleazy, girls-and-blow metal like Faster Pussycat or L.A. Guns. Take a listen to the guitars for proof;”

“The Wrong Ones come from the other side of the spectrum: brand-new noise that sounds crazy, the kind of stuff that makes record collectors and Ugly Things-magazine nerds shiver nervously while listening; like when you can't stop touching that damaged and painful tooth 'cause it hurts so good.”

“The Wrong Ones I Love Love Ditchwater Records wrong ones.jpg Part of the new wave of Houston glam-punkers, the Wrong Ones have enough filthy swagger and destructive danger coursing through their veins to corrupt the whole city. Their new I Love Love seven-inch serves is a rightfully seedy opening salvo for the band. Lead singer Jarett "Neurotic" Barger and the rest of the Wrong Ones borrow heavily from the Johnny Thunders playbook, with a glossy sheen of puked-up Lone Star stinging every track. Side A offers up the title track and "Miss PDA," spinning off your turntable and collapsing on your floor in a drunken stupor. It's fun stuff, and B-side "Mannequin Girl" is five minutes of blistering, decadent thrash that seems to go for miles on paint fumes and glitter. Overall, this is a good primer for what's in store for Houston if bands like the Wrong Ones start proliferating. Boys, start your man-orexing now.”