Really, one of the biggest shortcomings most modern punk acts face is that they don’t really have a lot to be angry about. The economy is booming, punk rock is on MTV and the cutest, most conservative girls are even open to advances from guys with green hair, so most of the usual avenues of three-chord complaints have been negated.

That doesn’t mean that there’s nothing to be bitter about, though, as Bratmobile deftly proves on Ladies, Women and Girls. Riled up and angry as ever, on Bratmobile’s first album since reforming in 1998, the riot grrrl trio is still vital. Though the years may have scraped away some of the band’s youthful fury, Bratmobile still has enough raw ire to put 95 percent of the macho punk boy bands out to the pasture.

Though the band sticks pretty close to the sound it established for itself years ago—how far can you push a single tinny, surfy guitar and a drum kit, anyway?—its age hasn’t put out the band’s fire. Songs like "Not In Dog Years," with a jabbing guitar and snare drum teamup, delivers a hearty, though upbeat, shock, while "90’s Nomad," full of hair-raising guitar fret-slides, keeps a rowdy edge in its sound. There’s no need to polish things here; Bratmobile is as dangerous as it is enticing. Guitarist Erin Smith and drummer Emily Neuman issue an almost irresistible dare to listeners to get involved in the band.

Once again, however, B-Mob’s most defining feature is Allison Wolfe’s agitated vocal tracks. With a combination of a powerful set of pipes, an outspoken belief in feminism and the brains to put both to optimum use, Wolfe delivers a clarion call loud enough to shake the dust off other bands’ increasingly trite complaints. From "Affection Training," that takes the wind out of the consumerist fantasy of modern-day housewives, to "Do You Like It Like That?" a searing indictment of complacent scenesters, Ladies, Women and Girls shows there’s still a lot left that’s worth getting worked up over. Other tracks, like a cover of Spook and the Zombies’ "Girlfriends Don’t Keep," add a touch of cheer to the record, while "In Love With All My Lovers," shows a frank and tender side of the singer.

Lighter songs aside, Bratmobile still pumps out an album that is one part fury, two parts intellect. It’s difficult not to be swept up in the band’s heady passion. Though feminism is the engine that propels the Bratmobile, there’s more than the superficial political slant to the band. Bratmobile strikes with such clarity and fire that puts a human face upon the issues feminism covers. While it’s not enough to melt the heart of a Focus-on-the-Family republican, it does handle its issues in a way that makes America’s problems difficult, if not impossible, to ignore, no matter what side of the gender divide listeners sit.