Gore Gore Girls

Born by the pale blue glow of “Hullabaloo,” lullabied by the River Rouge Stamping Plant and honed to a shiv point by midnight B-movies, Detroit’s Gore Gore Girls’ come-hither sneer draws a sonic line (in thick, black eyeliner, babies) from the Girl Group ground zero of the Brill Building to the legendary punk Mecca of the Grande Ballroom. Get the Gore’s innocent and insolent sound finds both the gum-snapping punk in the Ronettes and the sweet and dirty romance in the Stooges. It is brash, cute and killer. Be forewarned, though, anyone who writes the Gore Gore Girls off as only big hair, go-go boots and reform school allure misses the meat of the matter; slowwitted oglers are liable to get rudely muscled aside when the Girls hit the stage with their fully loaded Gretsch guitars, sweet harmonies and three-on-the-tree energy.