Every generation has cats to call their own. The original sound and intent gets diluted throughout the years, but the sight of tattooed, backwoods greasers with pompadours remains a beloved image. In the '90s, nobody did it better than , but Melbourne, Australia natives give the good reverend a run for his money on their self-titled American debut. True, 's sound owes far more to than it does to , or even , but they've cleverly appropriated certain signatures -- most ridiculously, the upright acoustic bass -- that give their homage to the golden age of a bit of charm. That would be enough to elevate them above many of their contemporaries, but they happen to harder and write better songs than many late-'90s punkers, and that's enough to make a guilty pleasure for old-school fans. For younger listeners, it's just simply a good record. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine