Starlite Desperation resides in sun-kissed Los Angeles. But the band has also done time in tough cities like Detroit, which undoubtedly contributed to the white-knuckled riffs and dark jams on albums such as Go Kill Mice and Show You What a Baby Won't. Residue from other rough environs (Salinas, California) also explains the quartet's feral sound on its latest EP, Violate a Sundae. Songs like "The Thing" resemble Iggy Pop fronting a napalm wall of sound, as much fuzzed-out swagger as come-hither swing. In fact, on the band's spring tour, Starlite Desperation's opening sets outgrooved the Rapture and sleazed more than Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. The bane's hipster-defeating secret? Hip-swiveling beats, taut riffs and even tighter pants -- the classic hallmarks of garage-rock seduction.