"Now I have to try to drink my hangover away," hazily croons the lead singer of the Dead Giveaways. This is yet another band that melds the booziest aspects of country with and the rowdier edge of punk rock. Unlike some other bands in a genre that boasts this "fuck you" attitude, the Dead Giveaways come across as wounded guys. They want people to go fuck themselves, not because of any political beliefs, but because their feelings have been hurt. These are bruised men, lashing back at the people who threw the first stones. They're pissed, but more than anything, they're offended by the lack of empathy granted them by the legions of assholes aiming to cut them off at the knees.

[Hell's Kitchen, with Psycho 78, Artimus Maximus, Triple Sixes, 9 p.m., $5, 928 Pacific Ave., Tacoma, 253.759.6003]