Today's Dodge Charger bears little resemblance to the muscle car the old-time gearheads remember: the Scotch-pad-green monster with the Edelbrock mufflers that they used to burn cookies and go lawn-stomping in, the same one they lost their virginity and, later, their pink slips in -- all in one night. Although the new version packs just as much horsepower, burnouts are turned off by the sleek design. Nostalgia resists progress. Likewise, punks who are still mourning the latest Ramone casualty may have no room for the updated old-school of Turbo A.C.'s. A peek under the hood reveals the same Social Distortion drive, advanced by fuel-injected guitar lines and a smarter, more efficient delivery. High-performance tuneage that screams out of the gate, the style is more aerodynamic than the Lagwagon rusting in Dad's hi-fi but maintains the same spirit that inspired it. The A.C.'s are one of the few American bands that can compete with the Scandinavian punk manufacturers who dominate the current market.