Remember when rock'n'roll was fun? Psychobilly progenitors the Cramps do, and they've come crawling out of the Black Lagoon with their first album of new material in five years to prove it.

Remember when rock'n'roll was fun? Psychobilly progenitors the Cramps do, and they've come crawling out of the Black Lagoon with their first album of new material in five years to prove it. Thrill to the "Theme From Peter Gunn"-like riffing and sweet lyrical reprobation of "Big Black Witchcraft Rock" ("Supermodel head on the chopping block," no less), the ride-'em-cowboy psycho spoof "Dr. Fucker M.D. (Musical Deviant)," and the runaway rockabilly peyote fest "Wrong Way Ticket"—a hot-rod suicide song that shoots straight through the cliff rail on Dead Man's Curve. Throw in three cool covers, some surf and boogie, and leopard-skin bags full of mondo-sexo, C-movie sci-fi/horror imagery, and you've got 45 minutes of goooorrgeously trashy entertainment that's as American as capital punishment.—AZ