Maybe all the dance-punk plasticity and garage-rock cock-grabbing of the last few years are starting to take their toll, but there's been a new trend bubbling up from the underground lately: simple, drunken earnestness. If it catches on (yeah, right), the Enablers are going to win a ton of Grammys next year, stumble around backstage at the ceremony with Bob Mould and John Mellencamp in tow, stuff their pockets with hors d'oeuvres and try to take away Mike Ness's ball and chain. Later, during his acceptance speech, singer-guitarist Rob Coe will break into a couple bars of "High and Outside," the anthemic centerpiece to To Thine Own Ruin Be True, the Florida quartet's blistering roots-punk opus. "That's what you do to me/When your world falls apart!" he'll screech before puking up aperitifs over the front row, smearing the eyeliner of all the tight-pantsed screamo bands that will slink home that night, awardless and wishing they had half the balls, booze and blue-collar purity of the Enablers.