They may look like nerds with their thick glasses and pasty pallor, but twins Charlie and Craig Reid of Scotland's Proclaimers play some of the most muscular folk music you're likely to hear. After the adrenalin rush of last year's Top 5 hit "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)," the song from Sunshine on Leith (1988) that became a smash after being featured in the movie Benny & Joon, the Reids have pumped up their traditional acoustic-based sound with some hard-hitting R&B, gospel and rock & roll punches.

The brothers come out swinging on the opening cut, "Let's Get Married," an anything-but-smarmy love song about the joys of matrimony. As an electric guitar chugs in the background, the twins sing the title entreaty over and over, in between shouting out declarations of devotion – "I love you, and I want to stay with you" – like participants at a revival meeting. On the work ethic ode "Follow the Money," a three-piece horn section gives a merry flavor to mundane Protestant sentiments: "Now I need to toil 'cause it's good for my soul/I feel clean when I'm working."

Spirituality is a prominent topic on Hit the Highway. The Reids do a poignant cover of an old gospel tune, "I Want to Be a Christian," accompanied only by piano, their heavily accented vocals reaching rafter-shaking levels. "The Light" takes organized religion to task for using scare tactics to strengthen faith in God.

Whether they're singing about romance or religion, the Reids, who wrote all but two of the album's tracks, are anything but wishy-washy; they reinforce their passionate beliefs with music that is almost anthemlike in its fervor. At times, however, the brothers' convictions come off a bit too vehemently. The rockabilly romp "Don't Turn Out Like Your Mother," for example, could do with a little less ardor and a lot more subtlety. Ultimately, the Reids' zealousness is more infectious than strident, infusing folk music with a fiery exuberance that it often lacks, which is really just another way of saying, wimpy looking or not, the Proclaimers can kick ass. (RS 685)

PETER GALVIN