Fri Sept 13, Crocodile, $10.

Rock 'n' roll relevance is difficult to maintain for 14 months, much less 14 years--but there are exceptions that prove the rule. Girls Against Boys have been playing a sexy sort of punk-metal since 1988 and show no signs of flagging. Over many pints of beer and a learned discussion on such topics as irresponsibility, Getting Screwed by the Major Label, and how inflation has sucked the fun from some of their songs ("Everything I Do Seems to Cost Me $20"), it becomes clear GVSB's longevity is the fault of their intense friendship.

There's no Hallmark aphorisms on their bond--or at least not in their music. You Can't Fight What You Can't See (Jade Tree), the quartet's first release since their experiment with Interscope and 1998's psycho-futuristic Freak*on*ica, is a burning collection of glam tunes that wryly lampoons disposable culture as much as it romanticize rock 'n' roll. In "BFF," the album's centerpiece, vocalist Scott McCloud coolly sings, "You're my b.f.f.--best friends for-ev; it's good to be a rock 'n' roll star," although it's evident from the song's tone that there are caveats to his claim. More than a decade in, GVSB are the most stylized band in the American underground and they still sound pissed off. So when they're sitting around a table at Manhattan rock bar Lit (minus bass/keyboard player Eli Janney, a new father), it's surprising to see how funny they are, and how neatly they've avoided becoming another Behind the Music cautionary tale.

"Maybe it's coming from D.C.--we'd definitely get into party mode with the attitude and stuff like that," says McCloud, smoking a Camel Light, "but we'd always pull back before the television went out the window."

"I sort of think the TV should go out the window," says the band's other bassist, Johnny Temple, "but I'm glad we aren't nonstop, arrogant assholes. You are sort of given a free pass to exhibit outrageous behavior--this is one of the few careers where it's tolerated, even encouraged."

Maybe so, but drunken shenanigans aren't what you'd expect from these Girls. Formed in Washington, D.C., during the halcyon days of the first Bush administration, GVSB reacted to their Dischord Record contemporaries in the post-hardcore scene. While their friends and neighbors played music to political ends, GVSB put the sex back into their rock, creating a melodic, dancey sort of metal that was at once self-effacing and super cool. After deciding on jobs and grad schools, they moved to New York. While recording for Touch and Go, the band released Venus Luxure No. 1 Baby, which contains "Bulletproof Cupid," a future shock number that's wet with desire; Cruise Yourself, with its indie hit "Kill the Sexplayer," in which McCloud lyrically murders the entire band; and House of GVSB, featuring "Disco Six Six Six," where the music's wrath is fed by luxury. The latter was their final record for the indie label, and they moved to Geffen (which became Interscope shortly thereafter), releasing Freak*on*ica, an underrated collection of technophobic songs driven with keyboards, and "Park Avenue," a radio single grounded by grinding guitars. Unfortunately, the major-label thing didn't work out.

"All a band needs is for someone to be like, 'Yeah, that's cool, it's going to be okay,'" Temple says. "You hardly care what your label is; you just want to be assured that someone's working over there. It's not like we were tough to please at all--we just literally couldn't get a return phone call."

In the interim between records, GVSB wrote new songs and split up for solo work; McCloud and Temple released Do Things (Beggar's Banquet) as New Wet Kojak, their softer, sleazier side-band; Temple founded Akashic Books, an indie publishing imprint; drummer Alexis Fleisig guest-starred for people like Moby. They're happy to be back on tour now, playing with new bands they like, such as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Pattern, and Radio 4. But as much as GVSB are marking their return in the new rock 'n' roll economy, they fondly recall the glory days of the mid-'90s when Touch and Go artists ruled the underground. "Those years were great," says McCloud. "It was really cool to play music and be able to tour with a bunch of like-minded bands. It felt like a community."

by Jonathan Durbin