Reprinted from yesterday's late editions

Punk rock's raison d'etre - the propounded philosopy, district from the costumes any Sex Pistols hype - is the revival of unadorned, working-mans revival of rock 'n' rock: a return to articulating the frustrations and hostilities that the animals and the Stones and the Who explored 15 years ago.

Despite her vocal work with the late '60s jazz rock band Ten Wheel Drive, Genya Ravan (a hard "G" and Poe's favorite bird) has been lumped into the punk New Wave category, probably bacasue of her production work for the Dead Boys and the coeval emergence of Patti Smith. Philosophically, the fit is good, but in practice Ravan, who played a one-nighter to spare crowds at the Cellar Door Sunday, is up an entirely different alley.

She is a straightforward '60s rocker, with a voice which is Eric Burdon dashed with Bruce Springsteen. The effect is visceral; it's not a voice for purists. She is at her best on just that type of material - the classic "I'll Go Crazy" and a medley of girl-group and do-wop songs - and the bluesy torchers. Some of her newer, urban-vision writing suffers from self-conscious intellectualism. Her band is good, and with work, she may break out.