Ok, let’s add this up- hot chick on bass and sometimes vox, Gun Club cover, big pop hooks exploding everywhere, wall-to-wall Blondie-isms, songs about the radio, swiped Replacements riffs (by accident, even), and enough youthful exuberance to keep Elizabeth Bathory in blood baths all winter long. Oh, and twin guitar riff-rock riots. If all that doesn’t equal ‘hit record’, well, perhaps it’s an even crazier world than I thought. BSB are from LA, they know a whole lot about erotic jello molds, they have a song on the soundtrack of an Adrian Zmed movie (and they readily admit the fact, which is pretty cool), and their songs stick in your head in exactly the way that the red stuff on a hot candy apple sticks to the roof of your mouth- burns right in and stays sweet for hours.