By Tom Lanham
Updated November 05, 1999 at 05:00 AM EST
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Hell hath no fury like a ska-punker scorned. And the claws on jilted Save Ferris kitten Monique Powell are sharp indeed; she spits, hisses, and scratches out enough vengeful vitriol to shoo that creepy ex all the way to Saskatchewan. Sure, we’ve heard this calculated balance of manic power chords (”Mistaken”) and hip-shaking ska (”I’m Not Crying For You”) before. But Powell’s bluesy bluster turns the familiar almost feral.

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