Jake Shears was born Jason Sellards. Anyone who reads the Wikipedia entry for his band, Scissor Sisters, can learn that without even scrolling down. What is less commonly known is that Jake Shears wasn't the singer's first stage name. In the 1990s, when he still called Seattle home, he had a very different alias: Cubic Zirconium.

"I used to perform at 21st Century Foxes," Shears recalls today of his drag past. "And I would only lip-sync James Bond theme songs." He was well below legal drinking age, but had a legit Seattle driver's license that said its holder was much older. ("I've always wanted to meet that guy, and thank him for leaving his ID at Bimbo's Bitchin' Burrito Kitchen.") Wigs and makeup, and a friend working the door, did the rest.

Foxes closed in 2001. An airy Irish pub resides in its former Olive Way home now. But before its Pho Bang–sparked renaissance, it was for diehards only. "The scene down there was the real thing, and I loved it," he says. "I learned the ins and outs from those crazy trannies." Since he was studying sign language at Seattle Central, Shears was one of the few patrons who could communicate with Wheelchair Betty, a notorious deaf amputee in a Barbara Bush wig.

"Foxes was a scary bar, but that's what made it exciting. And I liked putting myself in that situation. It made my adrenaline go. It was a drug, a kick, and that's what's always gotten me high."

This willingness to plunge headfirst into frightening situations would see Shears through a series of adventures: a move to New York and countless dismal apartments; working as a go-go boy at an East Village gay bar; seeing the first Scissor Sisters single, "Electrobix," get lumped in with the trendy electroclash fad. Ups and downs aplenty have become the stuff of many magazine and tabloid profiles (including Tricia Romano's January 29, 2004 Stranger feature "Seattle Sister"), but only partially prepared Shears and his colleagues for the rigors ahead.

These days, Jake Shears requires bigger doses of adrenaline to get off than some eyelash glue and a few choruses of "For Your Eyes Only" can supply. Fortunately, he does not want for attention. The Scissor Sisters self-titled 2004 debut was the year's best-selling album in the UK, a chart-topper that featured five hit singles. They triumphed in three categories at the 2005 Brit Awards, the UK equivalent of a Grammy triple win. Early this September, "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'," their new collaboration with Elton John, entered the British Top 40 at number one, bumping Justin Timberlake out of the top slot. Two weeks later, the band's sophomore full-length, Ta-Dah, also debuted at #1 in the UK.  

Cubic Zirconium taught Sellards the basics of working a tough room, and the importance of a well-timed hand gesture. But as Jake Shears, he has mastered much more: the values of patience and perseverance; how to interact with the biggest names in music; and, most importantly, he's learned that a boy with a dream can revel in klieg lights, dizzying crescendos, sold-out crowds, and all the other trappings of being an international pop star without behaving like a pampered brat.

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Shears's early aspirations of being a 007 song siren surface halfway through Ta-Dah, on "Land of a Thousand Words." Complete with timpani thumps and martial snare rolls, elongated guitar notes, and a very torchy vocal turn, the track recalls the verse (but not the explosive chorus) of "Live and Let Die," the 1973 tune by Paul McCartney & Wings. It also displays a more sophisticated side of Scissor Sisters than fans of earlier cuts like "Take Your Mama," their vibrant reworking of the Pink Floyd chestnut "Comfortably Numb," or the gay-club favorite "Filthy/Gorgeous" might be expecting. But this is perfectly in keeping with the rest of the sophomore set, which downplays the bells and whistles and blatant pop flourishes of the first album for a more cohesive listening experience.

The title Ta-Dah might lead fans to think completing the dreaded second album was a piece of cake. And that would be half right. "It was an incredibly difficult album to make, but every song was completely easy to write," explains Shears. With the exception of an occasional verse, every idea burst forth more-or-less fully formed, in a moment of inspiration. "The difficult part was waiting for those moments. Sometimes, months would go by, and you wouldn't have one."

Originally due out much earlier this year, Ta-Dah was ultimately pushed back twice while the band—which also features multi-instrumentalist Babydaddy, co-vocalist Ana Matronic, guitarist Del Marquis, and drummer Paddy Boom—kept plugging away. "That was awful," Shears recalls. "You don't want to do things too quick, but you're terrified you're taking too long, too. But then, in the middle of last winter, I remember Paddy said to me, 'People aren't going to care if the album came out three months after it should have, but they're going to remember if it's a great record.'"

It is. The disc includes "She's My Man," a gender-bending tale inspired by legendary New Orleans outlaw Annie Christmas, a towering gal who passed herself off as male; with quick blasts of brass and phased guitar riffs reminiscent of vintage Queen, it evokes the Big Easy without being blatantly derivative. "I Don't Feel Like Dancin'" whirls and thumps like the most traditional club offering among the dozen cuts—except the lyric frets about staying in instead of getting down. Ana serves up a blistering break-up song, "Kiss You Off," while Jake rattles off some choice barbs of his own over Babydaddy's spunky banjo licks on "I Can't Decide."

But the album's shining moment is also its simplest, the penultimate ballad, "Might Tell You Tonight." "I was falling in love with my boyfriend, and I wrote that one for him," says Shears, who composes the bulk of the band's material with Babydaddy. "Tonight" popped out during a rare break in the band's rigorous tour schedule, while they were home in New York, and they quickly recorded a demo version. "And then I had to go on the road again, and I left [the demo] for my boyfriend." Sweet, right? Sadly, the subject was less than ecstatic. "He doesn't like it very much," chuckles Jake. "He's so mean. He told me that it sounded like a 12-year-old girl wrote it."

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Sir Elton, who was among the band's earliest champions, isn't the only heavy hitter who has lined up to work with Scissor Sisters over the past few years. Ta-Dah also includes a song ("Paul McCartney") co-written with guest Carlos Alomar, David Bowie's guitarist on his classic albums from 1975's Young Americans to 1980's Scary Monsters. Jake and Babydaddy wrote and recorded the 2004 single "I Believe in You" with Kylie Minogue; Ana sang on New Order's Waiting for the Sirens' Call. There have been remixes for Pet Shop Boys and Blondie, opening slots with Duran Duran and U2, and songwriting play dates with Paul Williams (the band are big fans of Brian DePalma's 1974 rock musical Phantom of the Paradise, starring Williams as the Phil Spector–meets-Faust antihero Swan) and Roxy Music legend Bryan Ferry.

At no point, says Shears, have they tried to suppress their rabid music-geek leanings in the presence of these icons. (Just watch the giddy dressing-room sequences with Duran Duran on the We Are Scissor Sisters... And So Are You DVD.) "Bryan Ferry is such a sweet man, but I'm sure I was annoying the hell out of him, because I was asking every possible question that popped into my head. But that's the fun thing about getting to meet these people and work with them, and being a total music fan. It is so important to pick brains, and get opinions, and see what people really think about this or that. You get firsthand information that way, which is extremely valuable."

Many of these A-list meetings took place during the band's extensive touring, which kept them busy for the better part of two years, from 2003—when their second single, "Laura," was released overseas—through their climactic headlining performance at the British V Festival in August 2005. It was over this protracted period that the group also evolved from one that could write catchy songs and dress well, to putting on dynamite live performances, night after night after goddamn night.

"The funny thing is, none of us could play worth beans when we started out," Shears confesses. "We were a bad band. And that applies to all of us. Paddy was not as tight, Del was not a great guitar player, I wasn't a great singer. Ana was the one who had it most together on stage. She is absolutely fearless. If it wasn't for her, we never would have gotten off the ground in the first place. And over time, and after doing so many shows, now I'm really proud of us as a band."

That commitment to the live show is why the band opted for a two-night stand at the Showbox, rather than returning to the Paramount Theatre. "I hated playing at the Paramount," Shears insists of their January 2005 show. "I was so psyched to play, and then I thought it was awful, the worst gig on the whole tour." The balconies, the acoustics... nothing sat well with him. "Surprisingly, there was no atmosphere in the place, and, for some weird reason, we were having trouble creating it. I remember, three songs in, Ana looked out at the crowd and was like, 'This isn't a lecture at UW, people.' She read everybody."

Just as Scissor Sisters have learned to make informed choices about where they do or don't want to appear, their months of zigzagging across Europe and North America and back again also taught them how to keep it together between shows, too. Little tricks... like sleeping, and eating. "When I get stressed out, my appetite flies completely out the window," says Shears. "If I don't watch out, and I don't eat for a couple of days, I start looking real gaunt. And then your stomach shrinks and you never want food... it's this horrible, vicious cycle. There were times when I was really unhealthy. Now, when I see a banana, I eat a banana."

He keeps his temper under wraps more, too. "I don't yell at people as much. Not that I ever did a lot. But for many years, the catch phrase that would fly out of my mouth, whenever I heard something I didn't like, was 'Who am I going to yell at?' And then I would find that person and yell at them."

Of course, sometimes, even under the best of circumstances, craft services are nowhere to be found. Nary a banana in sight, and the blood sugar starts to plummet... and then? "I did throw a little fit in New York last week," he admits. The band had been doing back-to-back interviews, all day, with no meal breaks. "Finally, I was about to go into convulsions on the sidewalk from starvation." He plopped his ass down on a park bench, and an assistant was dispatched to Burger King.

"So she comes running back with a Whopper, and is yelling at me to get in the car, because we have to go to our next interview location." And for a just a tiny moment, the diva inside Jason Sellards surfaced. And the words that sprang forth were not lyrics from "Diamonds Are Forever," although they were accompanied by a hand gesture. "I just shook my head, and waggled by finger, and said, 'I am eating my Whopper right here.'"

kurt@thestranger.com