Hmm, ten minutes or so have probably passed. Actually, I have no idea, I've sort of lost track of time altogether. Fuel for Life is jamming on the speakers, but I'm not really sure what it sounds like. I'm still staring at those melons on the front cover of the CD. Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m a big honkin' chauvinist pig and you just started reading this review because you're a big fan. Gotcha.

Anyway, after cramming my tongue back into my mouth and replaying the CD, I realize that there's much more to The Turbo A.C.'s than racy, breasty blondes and massive eighteen-wheeler rigs. While the band likens itself to "greaser rock," I'm more inclined to point towards a misty combination of twisted surf and balls-to-the-wall, speedy hell-bent punk 'n' roll. Each member is adorned with plenty of hair goop and tattoos to make your rockabilly friends happy, but it's quite apparent that these boys like their guitar chords simple and fiery and their tempos speedy, as these 14 tracks race by at a rowdy pace. I'd even bet that this trio has some ill-reputed relationship with its West Coast sounding brothers, Zeke, as it pounds out similar sounding bits of brash punk.

"Primer Black" is the dangerous result of a mixture of ephedrine and some high-potency liquor. A quick downing of this barbed number sends a burning across your forehead like somethin' fierce. Other faves include the opener, "Want It Now," with its quick-to-pick-up chorus and "Acceleratin'," which crunches through a controlled ride of bumpy chords and pedal to the medal modalities. Greaser rock? I think not. It’s more like a hungry trio salvaging the sound waves from limp punk bands and staking claim to a genre that’s always in need of a fresh spokesperson.

And while the band's consistent 4/4 snotty punk rockitude won't win any innovation awards, you can’t object that these kids have cracked the code for creating strapping songs that trim off the bullshit and get straight to the effin' point -- namely, making your ass move. Whether they’re wearing suits or displaying their marked-up bodies, it’s quite apparent that The Turbo A.C.’s have spent a considerable amount of time honing an image that’s comfortably familiar, yet unique enough not to get lost in the world of minimal punk. Ask the blonde chick on the front cover. In a way, she’s just like the band. Both will leave you briefly stunned...and as you regain your consciousness, you’ll find yourself with arms outstretched, greedily grabbing for something to hang onto. Whoa, not those, buddy -- mind your manners! This is going to be a ride you won’t soon forget!