Tougher than the Go-Go’s or the Bangles. More melodically savvy than the Pandoras or Babes In Toyland. Independent and self-directed, unlike the Runaways, but just as “Cherry Bomb” hot. Ladies and gents, the Clams were a real rock band, a bit raw and mighty tasty. They coulda shoulda woulda been at least cult stars. The evidence is in your mitts.

Opening with a bang, “Run Baby Run” sounds like the Stones after gender reassignment. Chryssie Hynde would have been proud to add “He’s Like Heroin” to her million-selling songbook. Rescued from a forgotten compilation LP, “The Desperate Kind” delivers righteous, giddy punk-pop.

If “Give Me a Reason” is both tender and insistent, “Eat My Words” makes being angry sound downright gleeful. “What’s Wrong With This Picture?” should appeal to Kinks fans. “Train Song” keeps a-rollin’ mightily. “Crazy Boys” presents the fun and follies of fandom, with a dollop of Chuck Berry “Little Queenie” licks – nice.. And with its guitar pyrotechnics, sexual innuendo, and big, bruising beats, “Let Me Drive” is one hot ride – Beep beep’m beep beep yeah!

The one “official” cover track, “Human Being,” is terrific. These Minnesota gals – Cindy, Roxie, Patty and Karen – could stare down the New York Dolls in a dark alley, no lie. And the line about a “plastic doll with a new coat of paint” has never had more resonance.

A rejuvenated, back-in-the-bars Cindy Lawson has lately been reviving the beautiful, ballsy ballad, “Sad Times,” with her current band. And 36 years later, it still sounds great. It was composed and produced by Nic Santiago, himself once a local bar star with Babylon Pink, and The Form. Some record collectors will no doubt spot another kinda famous name in the producing and engineering credits. Mark Freeman, the main man of NNB, helped these songs sound so fresh even today.

And then we have the unearthed cover tunes, what a happy hoot! “Squeeze Box” is more explicit and more silly than the original, no mean feat. Karen Cusack goes wild on her drum kit, perhaps channeling a loon named Moon. I do miss the banjo, though.

Dour Lou’s classic, “Sweet Jane,” gives you a real flavor of what a night in the bar with the Clams was like. Can’t remember a bad one. “We’re an American Band” proves to be a pretty good song, even without Todd Rundgren’s studio magic. It’s as far removed from glam rock and punk as another curve ball, “Folsom Prison Blues.” A salute to the Man in Black, by the women most often in black themselves, it’s a reminder that our Clams once played a noteworthy gig at Stillwater Prison.

On my wall for several decades now, there’s a framed “Exile on Lake Street” poster of The Clams. To which every band member added a personal Sharpie note. Guitarist Roxie Terry wrote, “Tom, Thank You! Thank You! Thank You! I will give you my first born… Love, Roxie XX” Still waiting…

Tom Surowicz, Twin Cities music journalist, happily retired.