THE BLACK HALOS

Theoretically, fans of this sort of cigarette-and-whiskey-fueled glam punk should be loving life right now. But the preponderance of bands cranking up the rock and roll in the mainstream sense right now, be they KINGS OF LEON faux-southern revival or JET's pawn-shop AC/DC boogie, don't scratch this particular New York itch the way THE BLACK HALOS do. Somewhere in the swirling muddy mix where half of JOHNNY THUNDERS's influence oozed off to create street punk and the other half turned into MOTLEY CRUE, these ugly Canuck punters somehow create a noise that's exuberant and exciting, even as it's mud-caked, disposable and gutter-filthy. It's fun to sing along to and it goes well with cheap booze, too.

Of course, none of this is exactly new, which is kinda the point — you don't buy a record from pasty thugs like these when you want technical innovation. Hawking up these thirteen loogies with enough piss-'n'-vinegar attitude and trashed-out melody to make 'em, while the record is playing, sound like the most important punk rock anthems ever, is enough to give these guys their good name and a place at the table.

The most memorable song may be their cover of TOM PETTY's "I Need To Know" (a song that proves, if it needed proving, that it's all rock and roll, and most of these critical scene divisions are just as much bullshit as you always thought all along). But I'll take 45 minutes of too-gnarly-for-radio 'tude over the more polished retro redux from the STROKES/HIVES camp, or sanitized plastic punk from the likes of BEAUTIFUL CREATURES or BRIDES OF DESTRUCTION, any day of the fuckin' week. It ain't essential or anything, but I like it.