Pivot Foots Exhibit Likable Eccentricity : Rock: The band’s members all have minds that work in unconventional ways, a characteristic that makes their self-financed album a delight.

Rock music has plenty of showy, would-be eccentrics who exaggerate their quirks with an eye toward fashioning an image, only to be unmasked as dull conformists if you sit back and listen to what, if anything, they have to say.

It’s the quietly unassuming eccentrics who generally make for better company. They may not look like people you would expect to see strutting in a spotlight, but their minds work in unconventional ways, and that makes all the difference.

On the surface, the Pivot Foots look like three normal college graduates who watch sports and work office jobs--which is exactly what they do during the day to subsidize their after-hours efforts as a rock band. But on their self-financed debut album, “Wingless Birds of Flight,” the Pivot Foots show off a likable, nonflamboyant eccentricity that is founded not on a look or a stage act, but on the witty, imaginative way in which songwriting brothers Brent and Blair Walker frequently look at everyday things.

For example, instead of adding one more tired footnote to the hoary you-cheated-on-me- but-that’s-OK-’cause-I’ve-found-somebody-better pop scenario, the Pivot Foots offer “Wally Pipped,” which outfits the old script in a fresh uniform--old-time New York Yankee pinstripes, to be exact.

Wally Pipp, as any truly informed American ought to know, had the plum job of first basemen on the great Yankees team of the Roaring ‘20s. Figuring he had the gig sewn up, Pipp decided to play hooky for just one day. In stepped Lou Gehrig, who promptly took over Pipp’s position and never missed a day’s work until, more than 2,000 games later, the onset of a fatal illness finally forced him out of the lineup. Substitute wandering Wally for the errant girlfriend, and constant Lou for the reliable new love, and you have the conceit that enables the Pivot Foots to make an old story sound new.

You’ve been Wally Pipped out of this town .

No reason at all for you to stick around.

I got to first base with somebody new .

She’ll be my Gehrig, so I don’t need you.

Decked out in a surprisingly apt blend of neo-vaudevillian crooning and grinding punk rock, “Wally Pipped” is one of the better sports-based pop tunes to come along since John Fogerty’s wonderful “Centerfield.” That vaudeville or Tin Pan Alley influence crops up often on the album; the Pivot Foots also display their affection for blues, Tex-Mex music and R&B.; Spare production keeps the focus on the songs, which Blair Walker delivers in a grainy but flexibly tuneful voice.

The Pivot Foots would much rather find meaning through offbeat slices of everyday observation than sing self-important anthems, according to Brent, 27, who plays guitar, and Blair, 24, who sings and plays bass. Each brother wrote about half the material on the album.

“Bands that make a big statement and make it obvious aren’t doing anything new,” Brent said. “I like to make people say, ‘I never thought about it that way.’ That (overly preachy) Joan Baez thing never hit home with me as much as someone with a bizarre point of view.”

Along with drummer Greg Lowther, who goes by the stage name Mudd Plumbing, the Pivot Foots have been together for a little more than a year. The Walker brothers, Orange County residents until they relocated to Long Beach two years ago, had been forming bands together for several years before hitting on the Pivot Foots as their vehicle.

Each brother says he was happily surprised that the other decided to make a serious commitment to building a rock music career. Of the two, Blair is the natural musician, the one who took to the piano at age 5 and went on to master the drums and clarinet, among other instruments. Brent didn’t take up the guitar until he went to college. His early passion was old film comedies, which culminated in a film and television degree from Cal State Fullerton. At 22, Brent and a friend, David Hayes, published “The Films of the Bowery Boys,” a coffee-table quality history and appreciation of the old-time comedy series.

Brent, though he continues to have ambitions as a writer of films and documentaries, says writing songs and playing rock music is now his main creative priority.

“I’m glad he decided that,” said Blair. “I wasn’t sure how serious he would be. He was so into the movie thing.” Brent, in turn, is pleased that Blair decided to pursue music when he could have gone on to graduate school after earning a degree in biomedical engineering at Cal State San Diego. In his day job, Brent designs high-tech gear used in heart surgery.

While much of “Wingless Birds of Flight” is wry or satiric, the Pivot Foots use their sense of humor and offbeat perspective to make a real point instead of going for easy novelty value. Much of the album is an alert to the dangers of uncritical mass-thinking and social conformism, and songs like “Monday’s Agenda,” “Hundred-Aire” and “Civilization Caught Up With Me” cast a jaundiced eye on the way in which an increasingly harried, money-conscious way of life poses a threat to peace of mind.

It’s a viewpoint that is inspired partly from what the Walker brothers saw happen to Orange County while they were growing up.

“My parents moved from Los Angeles to Dana Point because nobody was there and you could buy a home cheap,” Brent said.

“The people who were there when we were in elementary school were regular people,” Blair added. “But now, there’s these giant homes in Dana Point. I don’t know where these people come from or where they work. Or if they have to work. When I was little, you’d say you were from Dana Point and people would say, ‘Where?’ Now you say it and they think you’re a millionaire. Not quite.”

The Pivot Foots aren’t shooting to move into one of those fancy homes. For now, their aim is to interest an independent record label in distributing their album and giving them a chance to tour. “I don’t have very expensive tastes,” said Brent Walker, who wrote “Hundred-Aire” about his own contentment to get by without a big salary. “Just to support ourselves as a band, that would be fine with me.”