THE SCREAMING BLUE MESSIAHS Totally Religious (Elektra)

Rock 'n' roll has always had its share of tough guys. It has been a profession where nasty habits and bad attitudes have been idolized and praised.

Over the years a lot of people have tried to cash in on this by manufacturing a tough veneer to sell records. Yet bands trying to fake it are easily detected. The hairspray and make-up mentality of groups like White Lion and Poison have verged more on self-parody then the true rock 'n' roll attitude.

The Screaming Blue Messiahs, however, prove to be the real thing. There's no flash or glam on Totally Religious -- just in-your-face guitars.

Frontman Bill Carter has phased out the synthesizers that flitted in and out their last album, Bikini Red, and has turned up his guitar for a bit of dissonance.

The Messiahs aren't concerned with pretty ballads either. Instead, their songs take to the desolate streets to serve justice to the scum responsible for corruption and vice in the land these Englishmen are so fascinated with -- America.

Their debut Gun Shy and Bikini Red both ribbed American culture, but this time they are no longer just observers. Carter seems to be controlling his own fate in his pseudo-sci-fi songs where he fantasizes about being an invincible overlord packing a heat-seeking missile.

In fact, nearly every song on Totally Religious has some kind of weaponry in it. G-men, vigilantes, bad guys and cops boldly express their Constitutional right to bare arms in Carter's songs.

Carter's gun is clearly aimed at religion. He takes a shot at it at every opportunity and his sniping hits everything from televangelists to the Ten Commandments. It's not vicious blasphemy, it's more a reserved skepticism.

He does go as far as to briefly chronicle the miracles that Jesus (or as Carter calls him, Lucky) had performed and asserts that today religion "looks like Disneyland."

There may be a certain distrust toward the religious institutions on Totally Religious, but Carter himself can't explain the meaning of life. He simply admits that "we live and die and I don't know why."

Otherwise the album is rife with Carter's bad ass bragging. It is sort of a trip to the machismo side of roll 'n' roll. Normally braggarts are taken with a grain of salt, but The Messiahs have the muscle and guitar munitions to back up their tough talk