Another odd, but enjoyable bill at Sudsy Malone's put the sweaty New Bomb Turks (good ol' Columbus boys gone Epitaph Records) with the hip-shakin' DC punk-blues Delta 72 (Touch and Go) and 6 smacks got me spit, sweat and a solicitation to join some sort of R&B cult.

After the 45-minute beating given by the Turks I was inclined to surrender to any organization which promised relief. That's not to say I didn't enjoy the Turks...from their incarnation in 1990 they have have been a welcomed relief from all the god awful baggy-short jock-rock that poses as punk rock today.

When you see them perform you can't help feeling that they believe in what they are doing. It's testosterone music to scream to, dance to, get drunk to, sweat to and that's the way the Turks want it - short blasts of adrenaline that are rooted in hardcore punk as much as hardcore rhythm and blues.

Jim Weber, guitarist and classic "heavy," was my favorite part of the live show. Sheeezzowheez...he jus' put his head down and hammered out the major scale bar-chords from beginning to end and there was no questioning his devotion to the core of punk. It is unfortunate, perhaps, that his quiet place on the stage was constantly overshadowed by the locker-room antics of lead singer, Eric Davidson.

I was taken by all the dynamite that must run through is veins but my interest waned as the Llama-like spitting habits and the off-stage queering with the teenage boys in the pit seemed predictable. Crypt and Datapanik records have created an entertaining Frankenstein and handed it off to Epitaph to see if they can manage them into pop oblivion.

I did, however, find a hilarious letter from a concerned citizen protesting on a Turks mail list which read: "If this group is really Turkish perhaps you should look into the history of Turkish people before you kiss their asses. Turks are responsible for the deaths of 2.5 million Armenians, 1 million Greeks, and thousands of their new victims...Kurds in their country.....are being murdered by Turks on a daily basis. These Bomb Turk assholes....whoever they are...should change their name!!" - Yeah!

The Delta 72's showed off their Soul of A New Machine that shifts them a bit more into classic soul and away from the punky abrasiveness that characterized The R&B of Membership. They still deliver heavy doses of full-on butt- shakin', Memphis meets Detroit, music with an edge. Think of a 5 headed apocalyptic beast comprised of James Brown, Jon Spencer, Booker T. & the MGs, along with Brainiac, and the Stooges more funkier side.

The 72's continue to walk a line of innovating on the past without falling into some wedding-band- retro self-parody. Drummer Jason Kourkounis logged in time Mule, so he's had the grit for sometime, and the addition of journeyman bassist Reckahn gives the group more of a fluid and funkier sound. They had a trumpet player which took some of the edge off the overall sound but made up for it during a Miles Davis-esque free solo towards the end of the set.

It's the founding members Gregg Foreman on guitar and Sarah Stolfa on Farfisa organ that make the Delta 72's. It wasn't all love though. As the night moved on, Foreman grew weary of the lack of enthusiasm from the audience and made some allusion to Cincinnati's reputation for repressed and stodgy vibes that make booty-shaking a lesson in self-consciousness.

Sheepishly, we all got involved in a clap- along to show we were as authentic as some big-city folk we imagine to be more with-it....it was a low point. What can I say? The Delta 72's have tapped into the Afro-American sounds that the two and three generations of white kids before them copped to make rock'n'roll such an enjoyable form of expression.