UNLESS YOU WORK for the San Francisco Police Department, you've probably noticed crime is on the rise again. In the past three months, most of my friends have been mugged or stabbed. A roving carload of deranged citizens has taken up the pastime of pushing over cyclists with their vehicle – or just egging them. The Guardian Angels have set up shop on Mission Street. And then there's the use of ballpoint pens on bike locks. But as we all know, in the end, crime doesn't pay. So why rerelease the scant singles and demos-that-never-made-it-to-vinyl of early San Francisco punk band Crime?

Punk-loving U.K. label Solar Lodge released San Francisco's Doomed in 1990, compiling three separate recording sessions from 1976, '77, and '78 but somehow managing to skip '76's all-important first-ever self-released West Coast punk single: "Hot Wire My Heart"/"Baby, You're So Repulsive." Other labels released similar comps, tacking on more exhumed singles and bootlegs, morosely reminding us of the pedestal in the halls of punk history that never was to be. Now we have Swami's San Francisco's STILL Doomed, which adds alternate versions of "Hot Wire" and "Baby" to the original Doomed LP, along with a slight reprisal of Phantom Surfer Michael Lucas's liner notes, which bear a grudge against those who overlooked Crime and trumpet the forthcoming Revenant box set-DVD. Seems like everyone wants to take a bite out of this band, which is odd, considering they got so little recognition for essentially doing what the Ramones were doing in New York City: being loud, obnoxious, and most of all, fun.

At the start of Crime's raucous wave in 1975, it was pretty much agreed they were the loudest band by the bay. Check out STILL Doomed and you'll see. With 22 digitally remastered tracks of sneering, blaring, nasty rock 'n' roll that won't give you a moment's peace from start to finish, the CD pinpoints the juncture where San Francisco made its 180-degree turn away from the mellow. Their alarmingly dissonant speed-fed soul and vile lyrics were a wake-up call to all the lousy bar bands that dominated San Francisco's nightlife. Because no one at that time was sure if punk was actually just a marketing term, members Johnny Strike, Frankie Fix, Ron the Ripper, and Ricky Tractor enjoyed confusing journalists by alternately refusing to dub themselves a punk band and insisting they were the only punk band in the city. S.F.'s sex kitten-fronted Nuns may have begged to differ. Nevertheless, Crime, along with the Nuns, helped save San Francisco from its doldrums by ruling the local scene at North Beach's Mabuhay Gardens, inciting riots at shows, getting dibs on all the best bills, such as the Damned's first gig in town, and rampaging in the streets of S.F. in full-on cop regalia. And the people didn't have to listen to covers anymore. Back then, early punk adopters played shows with bizarre performance art groups like Mary Monday, experimental acts that explored gender issues, and a guy named Z'ev who made quite a racket on water bottles. Eventually the floodgates opened and bands like the Avengers and the Dead Kennedys stormed through.

So how did Crime get left out of the mix? Well, just as our own boys in blue seem to be overlooking the staggering number of shootings that have occurred recently in my neighborhood, the local music press failed to see Crime's brilliance. How could they not appreciate Strike and Fix's dueling vocals, delivered like spit, and songs like "Piss on Your Dog"? Such disloyalty and Fix's shoddy treatment of Sire Records' Seymour Stein during a business meeting might have forever sealed Crime's fate as an underground band. Yet the band have slowly received their due. Sonic Youth's cover of "Hot Wire My Heart" on Sister (SST/DGC, 1987) inspired a new generation to dig for the original singles and bootleggers to capitalize on crappy live recordings. The Clinic named Crime as one of their major influences. And now Hives vocalist Pelle Almqvist has designated them some of the best-looking rock icons, along with Muddy Waters and Kraftwerk, though it should be noted that, in a recent phone conversation, former drummer and now indie film producer Henry Rosenthal stated, "Uh, er, we were more feared than lusted after."

Now that Crime are considered sex symbols, it seems as good a time as any to re-form the band. Although Rosenthal and Johnny Strike – who just published his first novel, Ports of Hell – were vague about when and how they'll return, they said the Nuns' Pat Ryan will make an appearance as "the Monsignor," replacing Fix (R.I.P.). Dearly departed Tractor's long-lost nephew will take up the bass. (The other drummer, Brittley Black, has also gone on to the big gig in the sky.) And San Francisco is no longer safe from fun.