The Loved Ones “The Price for Love”<i> Hightone Records</i>

The official line on the Loved Ones is that the four young mod-bedecked Berkeley-bred gentlemen got their sound by being force-fed old blues records by their hippie parents. Maybe so, but I could almost as readily believe that the guys on the cover are merely models, and that it’s really the James Harman Band on the disc.

At the very least, I find it nearly impossible to believe that the Loved Ones weren’t hearing at least some of their formative blues filtered through the Orange County bluesman’s band. Singer Bart Davenport has a voice that’s reasonably like Harman’s, full but with a pleasantly pinched upper-end. What he does with it is very Harman, from the stage-proven vocal mannerisms to the winning mix of skill and abandon to the way both singers tend to goose a song into a new orbit during its closing bars. Davenport’s harmonica playing sounds similarly Harman-acized, and the band delivers free-flying blues/soul/R & B arrangements of the sort at which Harman excelled before he devoted himself more to straight blues.

Whether a copy or coincidence, the Loved Ones are one jumping band, and there’s never enough of those in the world. Producer Scott Mathews, who recently revived Dick Dale’s career with the “Tribal Thunder” album, certainly has set the Loved Ones’ career out right with “The Price for Love.”

Many good stage bands lose their essence once they start availing themselves of overdubs and other studio technology. Mathews recorded this group live in the studio and captured energetic performances that leap out from the uncluttered production. Guitarist Xan McCurdy particularly asserts a strong presence with economical, tension-packed lines that recall Jimmie Vaughan. The pumping rhythm section is Mike Therieau on bass and John Kent on drums.

The album leads off with a jaunty guitar intro that slides into a groove that’s so in the pocket, it’s got lint on it. With “Jaguar Blues,” the group creates a musical impression of one of those fine British motorcars tearing through a cornfield by moonlight. “Hightone Hop” is a full-tilt instrumental with Davenport’s harp and McCurdy’s guitar trading off ripping lines. There are a couple of numbers that don’t work, such as “I Told the Truth”--sort of a fatuous blues “My Way”--but most of the album’s 14 songs cook.