The Radio Knives' debut album, ``Cursed, " out now on Dionysus Records, is a fast-paced collection of hot-wired, rock 'em-sock 'em roll that's muscle-car mean and lean (the whole thing roars by in less than 40 minutes). No wonder that a couple of the band's principal influences -- the MC5, the Stooges -- are Motor City madmen. What's more, the Knives formed from the ashes of singer-guitarist Stephen Fay's and singer-bassist Alan Levesque's previous band, TV Eye, which was named after a Stooges tune.

Get Fay, Levesque, and newly added drummer Paul Reynolds philosophizing about the music they love and the word ``energy" comes up often.

``If you like the record, you're going to get punched in the face by the show, because we do try," says Levesque over afternoon drinks with his bandmates at the Silhouette Lounge. ``We're not staring at our feet, and we're going to win you over, one person at a time."

The Radio Knives will have a chance to prove it tonight at the Abbey Lounge in Somerville , where the band shares a terrific CD-release double bill with its Dionysus labelmates Muck and the Mires. The latter's independently produced album, ``1- 2 -3 - 4" is being re released by the California label. Also on the bill is the Downbeat 5 and Prime Movers . (Both the Radio Knives and Muck and the Mires will jointly host a CD-release party at Jake's Bar & Grill in Providence tomorrow night.)

With the clutch of tough, taut tracks on ``Cursed" -- ``Red, Red Rage" and ``Bad Feelin'" are odes to primal urges set to loud guitars, bashing drums, and unhinged vocals -- the Radio Knives may soon take their place at the front line of new Boston bands carrying the torch for the city's hallowed garage-punk tradition. That torch was ignited, of course, by past and present royalty such as DMZ, the Lyres, Classic Ruins, Prime Movers , and the Real Kids.
``It's been an honor to play with these people," says Fay, a self-described music junkie who grew up in Green Bay, Wis., and spent his adolescence soaking up the heartland punk of the Replacements.

There's something galvanizing about a band employing a switchblade-sharp riff, a strutting melody, and a defiant stance to sing about bad relationships and worse luck. It makes life's biggest bummers sound and feel good, and it's something Radio Knives do with exuberance and old-school aplomb, both live and in the studio.

``I hate it when I see a band live and the show isn't even close to their record," Fay says with a mildly disgusted look. ``I never want to do that with this band. [``Cursed"] is authentic, no punches pulled. That's what I like about it."

That doesn't mean that the Radio Knives sacrificed well-arranged songs for pure adrenaline. Good material, they insist, comes first.