The Sahara Hotnights are what The Go-Go’s would have sounded like if they had rocked as hard as they partied.

Not that the four Hotnights are nymphomaniacal drug addicts. They just know how to write catchy pop gems while playing the role of femme fatales with guitars slung low enough on their hips to make Chrissie Hynde look twice.

With one stiletto heel on each side of the line between pristine pop and raunchy rock, the Swedes break just enough of a sweat to make their mascara smudge but not run.

After all, blending four-part harmonies into screaming, chant-along choruses takes finesse. It isn’t easy to sound delicately vulnerable while at the same time exuding a sassy confidence.

Don’t worry, this isn’t a Donnas’ record. There are no scorned-lover, wanna-be punk rock concertos or stories about personal sexual revolutions.

Instead, it’s tightly packaged rock ’n’ roll with a hypothetical, balls-to-the-wall bravado.

Besides, a band that dates The Hives needs to be aggressively pop-sensible; especially since rock swagger isn’t sexually transmitted.

If it were, The Go-Go’s would have rocked harder than anyone.