ROCK CITY : Picking the Top 15 Bands From the L.A. Music Scene

If L.A. Beat owned a record label. . . .

Suppose some benefactor came along and gave us a blank check with this inviting challenge: Start a record company and develop a roster that represents the best of L.A.’s current rock scene. Find vital and original acts. Don’t worry about commercial considerations.

The only restriction: None of the bands can already be signed to a major company. Acts on small, independent labels, however, are fair game.

Given the same assignment a few years ago, L.A. Beat could have built a handsome catalogue indeed: X, the Go-Go’s, Los Lobos, the Bangles, the Blasters, Lone Justice, the Plimsouls, Dream Syndicate. Not bad for starters.

But what about the scene today?

While local music today is perhaps not as highly touted nor as trailblazing in terms of pioneering new genres (remember cow-punk and power pop?), L.A. Beat found a healthy pool of talent, one with impressive scope and depth.

On just about any given night, at least three or four excellent local bands are playing around town, at small, funky clubs like Raji’s and the Lhasa or at a late-night hot spot like the Scream. Whatever the setting, the music could easily range from winsome, off-kilter folk to aggressive thrash.

In fact, the hardest part of selecting the mythical roster was keeping the list of candidates to a manageable size.

Among worthy groups passed over were the industrial rhythm-makers Radwaste and Faith No More, power poppers the Real Impossibles, the Bel-Fires and Wednesday Week, Hollywood (by way of Texas) trashers the Little Kings, intellectual popsters Pop Art and country-rockers Kimm Rogers and Range War (ex-Fear leader Lee Ving’s new band).

Most of the bands selected already have albums out, either on small independent labels or, in many cases, independents that are distributed by majors. This fact underscores the professionalism (not to be confused with commercialism) of the city’s most prized bands.

One note of discomfort: the predominance of white males. But that’s the reality of a scene that not long ago celebrated the presence of such strong women figures as X’s Exene Cervenka and the Motels’ Martha Davis, as well as the all-girl bands the Go-Go’s and the Bangles. Local clubs also toasted the pioneering black new-wavers the Busboys (who never really took off) and Latino champions Los Lobos (who did).

The three-quarters female band Wednesday Week has the potential to follow the Bangles to national acclaim, but doesn’t seem likely to become a local icon on the Exene/Go-Go’s level. And a year ago the Wild Cards, an Orange County-based Latino band, seemed poised to inherit Los Lobos’ title, but has maintained a low profile in recent months.

Ranking the finalists would be impossible: The variety of styles is just too great. But one choice stood out from the rest, claiming the title of L.A’s best band, and would therefore be L.A. Beat Records’ very first signing:

Firehose--As the band that rose from the Minutemen following the 1985 death of that group’s D. Boon, this San Pedro band has a great pedigree. But Firehose ranks at the head of the class of ’87 on its own, thanks to exhilarating live performances and an excellent debut album, “Ragin’ Full-on” (on SST). Ed Crawford, Boon’s replacement, adds a distinctively youthful character to the progressive punkisms of bassist Mike Watt and drummer George Hurley. While its jagged rhythms and often jarring, politically conscious lyrics recall the Minutemen, Firehose’s approach is more direct--if not as challengingly eclectic, every bit as thrilling. A second album, “Bare Neck-Ed,” is due in August.

Here is the rest of the first L.A. Beat Records roster, in alphabetical order:

Balancing Act--Imagine the Limeliters as conceived by Captain Beefheart and you start to get the idea of this band’s quirky, avant-folk charm. A Peter Case-produced EP, “New Campfire Songs” (just picked up by I.R.S. Records’ new Primitive Man Recording Co. wing), showcases such joyously oddball songs as “The Neighborhood Phrenologist” and intriguing blends of acoustic guitars, electric bass, snare drum, harmonium and bargain-basement keyboard. On stage--whether on its own or backing up such friends as singer Victoria Williams--the band radiates an infectious, sunny exuberance, unfettered by the cynical sarcasm of such similarly flavored crews as Camper Van Beethoven. Currently recording its first album for PMRC.

Bonedaddys--”In the beginning was the bone . . . and the bone was good,” a line from one of this colorful band’s songs, captures the comical-mystical vibe of the octet that calls itself the brotherhood of the bone. Its mix of salsa, soca, Caribbean and Cameroons rhythms, peppered with blues, polka and reggae has been strictly a live conga-line experience. Now, though, the world beat band is about to release its debut LP, the eight-song “A-koo-de-a,” featuring guest star Bo Diddley. But it’s going to be hard to Memorex the Mardi-Gras feel of the live group. When the Bonedaddys (who play the Lighthouse Wednesday) come out in their turbans, robes and trademark fezzes, it’s time to either dance or leave the room.

The Brigade--Although the Brigade doesn’t play live much, the transplanted Canadian trio’s influence on the local scene has been considerable. Operating as a band, promoters and owners of BYO Records, the seven-year-old band skirts a line somewhere between early Clash, U2 and South Bay hardcore. While they’ve transcended punk, the ethos of their punk beginnings remains obvious, musically as well as lyrically. When the Brigade opened for Gene Loves Jezebel here last year, it blew the English glamsters off the stage, turning in a set that could have worked in front of a mainstream arena audience or in a dank club packed with sweaty skinheads.

Dancing Hoods--In many ways the most commercial of these entries, the Hoods (who relocated here from Long Island last year) make music ranging from raucous, intelligent rock suitable for the Replacements to more mainstream-sounding material that would fit on contemporary rock radio. The band’s one album, “12 Jealous Roses” (released last year by Relativity), is a good introduction to the group’s clashing guitar sound and melodic writing, but the often explosive live shows--with terrific new material augmented by hard-edged versions of such songs as Leonard Cohen’s “Diamonds in the Mine”--are more representative of the quartet’s talents. Sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired singer/guitarist Bob Bortnick is an engaging performer with a droll wit and genuine enthusiasm for his music. Expect the Hoods to sign with a major label soon.

Descendents--These guys have done the Minutemen--whose trademark was short songs--one better: The title tune on their recent “All” LP clocks in at less than a second. Over the last seven years the Descendents’ speed-thrash, goofball approach has found a dedicated following. While life viewed through a caffeine haze is still the standard approach, an undeniable maturity (!) has emerged, even in the midst of the heart-stopping rhythms, head-banging bass lines and lyrics that proclaim the delights of flatulence, living in a van and unrequited love. Black Flag fans take note: drummer Bill Stevenson was that South Bay band’s rhythm-meister for a series of hot sellers, and time has not slowed him down.

Divine Weeks--Give the Dream Syndicate a fresh face and turn the intensity up a notch or two, and you’ve got this quartet of local college students whose debut album, “Through and Through,” and energetic performances have made this one of the fastest rising bands around town. Singer-songwriter Bill See becomes swept up in the music on stage a la Van Morrison or Bono Hewson, and he does the most convincing primal scream in rock since John Lennon. The band’s raw but accomplished musical acumen and See’s existentially and spiritually questing lyrics show talent beyond the members’ years and point at tremendous potential for growth. Divine Weeks will play at the Lhasa Club tonight and the Anticlub on Saturday before embarking on its first-ever national tour.

Divine Horsemen--Before he was the head Horseman, Chris D. led the Flesh Eaters, a shifting lineup that often included members of the Blasters and X. While that group was a darling of the in-crowd, it was pretty inaccessible for a wider audience. That’s not the case with Mr. D.’s current outfit. Last year’s Divine Horsemen album “Devil’s River” was a welcome step to a more balanced sound, and the just-out mini-album “Middle of the Night” keeps the momentum going. Its folky, slowed-down tempo, entrancing variety of tunes and enticing blend of Chris D.’s, and Julie Christensen’s vocals is reminiscent in some ways of the best moments of X. Jagger and Richards, whose “Gimme Shelter” is interpreted by the Horsemen on “Night,” would give their diamond-studded teeth to make an album as real and gritty as this these days. A new LP, “Snake Handler” is due in September.

Downy Mildew--Any band that superimposes the Velvet Underground’s “Sunday Morning” over John Denver’s “Leaving on a Jet Plane” obviously likes to keep you off guard. The co-ed quartet exhibits an original vision: Velvety (as in Underground) textures, near-amorphous swirls of guitars and drums, and flat but mysteriously intriguing vocals that underscore the haunting moodiness of the lyrics. Perhaps its only drawback besides its name (which comes from a botanical phenomenon, not the local burg) is a failure to fully explore the vocal possibilities of singer-guitarists Jenny Homer and Charlie Baldonado, who generally sing separately rather than together. A 1986 EP and the recent LP “Broomtree” are available on the Texas Hotel label.

Kommunity FK--Last summer while visiting Kommunity FK leader Patrick Mata was thinking of his band as a good idea whose time had gone, even though the group had just released its second album. When the gloom-doomsters began in 1981, their erratic “experimental” performance approach didn’t always work, and one got the feeling the band didn’t always care. But now the once surly Mata has turned into a charismatic charmer and the group’s music has developed its own distinctive sound: melodically upbeat yet texturally moody, both danceable and demanding at the same time. If one must name names, Kommunity FK has moved out of the Joy Division darkness into the relative daylight of the Cure. Now the darling of the Scream crowd, the band has recorded five new songs and has a track on the Scream compilation LP due next month on Geffen Records.

Long Tall Marvin--Anyone who knows Marvin Etzioni from his days with Lone Justice knows he’s an outstanding songwriter. Now with his own band he’s showing his talents as a frontman as well. The bassist is not a pure, show-stopping singer, but he combines deft vocal inflections and sly body English to put across his frailty-of-flesh/strength-of-spirit lyrics. He’s also got a strong supporting cast of solid rockers, spearheaded by guitarist Duane Jarvis. And when steel guitarist Steve Fishell sits in on stage, it sounds like the Rolling Stones fronted by Bob Dylan. Etzioni has been recording both in studio and in concert lately for possible release soon.

The Rave-Ups--The local cow-punk/country-rock movement never really blossomed into a dominant force, but several strong country-tinged acts remain on the scene. Though somewhat inactive due to legal problems with its old label, the Rave-Ups remain at the fore of the genre (with such newer names as Kimm Rogers and Tin Star close behind). In the past, the Jimmer Podrasky-led Rave-Ups took a rocky approach to their music, more resembling Tom Petty than George Jones. Lately, the sound has been less rollicking, but more mature. Podrasky seems determined to justify the acclaim the band racked up a couple of years ago when the local club scene was not quite as competitive. He’s currently focusing on his songwriting in preparation for a return to a high profile on the local club circuit.

Redd Kross--If you don’t have a sense of humor, go on to the next band on the list. That’s not to say that the fun-house flavor of the band (both live and on its Big Time Records LP “Neurotica”) is limited to a one-joke gimmick. When the brothers McDonald get cranking--waving their chest length hair like every cliched rock star poser of the ‘70s--you feel like flicking on your lighter and raising it in homage. In the seven years since brothers Steven and Jeffrey McDonald first poked spit-wet fingers into local ears with their first album “Red Cross,” the perennial teen-agers have honed their trash-and-spurn style to a fine, sarcastic, cut-to-the-bone edge. Like the Ramones and the New York Dolls (two names that frequently pop up in Redd Kross reviews), the band (which opens for the Bangles at the Greek Theatre tonight) has staked out a territory all its own, limited only by the boundaries of our cultural stupidity. Beastie Boys, beware.

Suicidal Tendencies--”We’re the few, the proud and we like to jam it loud.” That’s the message from Suicidal Tendencies, and more than a few recruits have joined up. The Venice natives’ new LP, “Join the Army,” has sold more than 85,000 copies--quite a feat considering the violent images of the band’s 1983 debut LP and its cult hit “Institutionalized.” In leader Mike Muir’s world, the aerial acrobatics of skateboarders, thrashing skinheads and chainsaw guitar riffs are all threads in the same weave, a go-for-it style that is as identifiable as the group’s own gang-like look. Musically, Suicidal Tendencies has combined metal and hard-core, retaining a street-wise credibility while exploiting the punch and finesse of metal. The violence has been toned down, but it’s still not likely to make it onto the Washington Wives’ Top 10.

Thelonious Monster--In the 2 1/2 years that Thelonious Monster has been around, leader Bob Forrest has not matured. If anything, he’s having even more fun than before. Once considered a good-time joke band (complete with a chaotic four-guitar lineup), the Monster has pared down to a quintet that is much more manageable. That’s not to say that the blend of barroom blues, ballads and Hollywood trash-rock are dished up with session-like precision. Forrest is still sometimes dangerously loose, lurching about like a wino perched backwards on a bucking bronc and yet somehow managing to stay in the saddle. It’s a hair-raising balancing act that fascinates some and irritates others. But the group’s debut LP “Baby, You’re Bummin’ My Life Out in a Supreme Fashion” was one of last year’s strongest local releases, and the new “Next Saturday Afternoon”--due out this week--keeps the flame going. The band marks the release with a Club Lingerie show on Friday.