Plimsouls Rock Without Pretension : Pop music review: The band is faithful to its older material and really explodes on new tunes, capturing the roots spirit.

The roots rock movement in L.A. from the early to mid-’80s gave birth to a number of fine bands, but, because the movement was as short-lived as it was explosive, many ended up by the wayside before they had a chance to live up to potential. Among the most fondly remembered were the Plimsouls, who have re-formed and who played at the Coach House on Sunday night.

During its heyday, the band parlayed jangling guitars, way-cool hooks and manic stage energy into “power pop” music heavily influenced by ‘60s AM radio but played with contemporary punk aggression.

Sunday, with three of the original four members (singer Peter Case, guitarist Eddie Munoz and bassist Dave Pahoa; Clem Burke, formerly of Blondie, has replaced Lou Ramirez on drums), the Plimsouls reminded their listeners just how simple and unpretentious fun can be, with a garage-band, shake-that-thang sensibility that seemed positively exotic in light of the slick, commercial concerns of so many of today’s rockers.

Things ran somewhere between anarchistic and comical: Guitars were tuned endlessly between songs; less-than-gifted but earnest roadies were brought onstage to sing and play, and members of the audience were invited to do the same (there were no takers). Case (who has grown a softball-sized double chin) has developed an unfortunate habit of emitting hailstorms of saliva when he sings, anointing hapless fans in the front rows. Munoz, sporting a ‘70s rooster ‘do and an ‘80s thift-store-chic sport coat, looked like a demented museum piece as he did his best Pete Townshend imitations. It was all so refreshingly goofy, an early Mad magazine feature come to life.

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The band played honest versions of its older material but really saved its enthusiasm for churning, burning new tunes, such as “Playing With Jack” and “Cool Trash,” which sounded like Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels getting drunk with Tommy James and the Shondells. Through it all, Case’s still adenoidal, pubescent-sounding voice lurched and howled. Anachronistic? Inarguably. But the Plimsouls proved the true spirit of rock cannot be dimmed by age.