From the band's name to its kitschy, gory album cover to calling its frontwoman Nekroman, Horrorpops risks coming off like warmed-over Cramps. Unless you pop the disc in, of course, in which case you'll learn the group rocks like God on fire. These good-spirited, dog-collared perfectionists sweat over every headlong punk riff and yell-along backing vocal. Nekroman boasts a great, scalding shout, and her upright bass brings a thrilling swagger to days when rock has forgotten its pelvis. The surprise is that the rote psychobilly numbers ("Cool Flattop" and "Psycho Bitches Outta Hell," bland songs performed winningly) follow half a dozen searing punk-pop songs about not wanting to "give in" or "consent." Because, silly as this crew looks, it's more in line with the best new wave than with the purveyors of rockabilly pastiche.
