The Language of Thieves and Vagabonds (1991)

Nearly every good band has done its share of serious contemplation. But when the Throbs looked within their souls, they found a black void. This becomes chillingly and effectively clear on Thieves and Vagabonds, the quartet's debut album. From the first evocative strains of ''Underground,'' it's obvious that these hard-rockers have mastered the art of bleak cynicism. They travel in a nighttime world devoid of morals and hope, and on aggressive numbers like ''Come Down Sister'' and ''Rip It Up'' they react like snarling dogs that have been kicked one too many times. They haven't added many new turns to the typical bad-boy image of revelry and abuse, but they're surprisingly honest about their contempt: ''Ocean of Love,'' for example, is a wide-open invitation into their I-don't-care-anymore life-style. And when they slow down, as they do with the opiated ''Dreamin','' the nastiness takes on the dreamy warmth of a vampire's kiss. That darkly seductive quality is what's gripping about this album. B+