guitar attack and lots of fake-adolescent bluster ("My beach ... /Go home!"). In practice, however, these beached boys make the mistake of pounding their point straight into the sand.

Missing the mark of humor by a wide margin. Steele and Dragon simply substitute slapstick lyrics and assembly-line punk arrangements for the snappy minimalist wit and violent emotional thrust of the Ramones records they try so hard to parody. Sure, the belching intro to "My Wave" is funny the first time, and Steele has perfected a Dick Dale-meets-the-Buzzcocks mutant surf-guitar sound. But in the long run, tunes like "Beer Can Beach," "Punch Out at Malibu" and "Bird Bathroom" ("The ocean's nothing but a fish toilet") represent new lows in outdated Mad magazine-style comedy. These lines are a random sample: "Mommy was a stripper/Daddy was a jerk/Do you know what time it is?/Oh, I'm late for work."

As an attitude, My Beach is an okay antidote for arty New Wave pretensions. As an album, it's too much of nothin'. Surf Punks, take warning: My turntable ... /Go home! (RS 329)

DAVID FRICKE