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The Alligators 

Hide Your Children . . . Surrender Your Women (fireboxfilms@aol.com)

The satanic surf rock of the Alligators brings to mind a defrocked Reverend Horton Heat: With requisite reverb, rubbery bass, and B-movie lyrics, the band embraces the conventions of pyschobilly, but in particularly gruff fashion.

"We fuck and we fight/We drink and we smoke/And they say we're the type you shouldn't provoke," frontman Turd McGurk bellows on "Looking for Trouble," in a surly howl that goes down rough: all phlegmy, atonal, and rude. Combined with the occasional blast beat and metal-thrashing mad riffs, shout-alongs such as "Wrecking Ball" and "Gasoline and Vodka" become loud, lightning-fast odes to debauched living. The Alligators also drop the expected instrumentals, covering Link Wray's "The Outlaw" and "Rawhide," in addition to a pair of guitar scorchers of their own. It's all been done before, but with a double shot of grit and attitude, the Alligators provide rambunctious rockabilly fans with something to sink their teeth into.

Speaking of Regional Beat

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