A stabilized Up The Empire shines brightly

By CHRISTOPHER FRITZ

07/01/2005

Name changes for a band are usually a bad thing. Usually as the result of some legal action or contract dispute, established bands are typically forced to change names against their will. Witness Death From Above's 1979's war of words against the DFA label, or the Charlatans UK's reluctance to add their homeland's initials because of Haight/Ashbury psychedelic garage band the Charlatans. Despite the fact that the original Charlatans released only one album in 1969, lawyers for the record company forced the change. What ever happened to peace, love and understanding?

Proving that there's always an exception to the rule however, some bands have willingly changed names. Usually occurring only among lesser-known indie bands that can afford to weather such a change with a small fan base, a name change is usually a kind of cleansing ritual or sometimes, a complete change in style. Brooklyn-based Up the Empire knows the drill firsthand. Starting out in 1998 as Kilowatthours, a band begun among friends from Louisville, Ky., it attracted the interest of Baltimore's Temporary Residence label and recorded a debut EP, single and full-length, "Strain of Positive Thinking" in its first year together. A striking album of keyboard heavy rock, Kilowatthours garnered significant praise for its debut.

But coming down from the high of such a critically acclaimed albumful of piano pop must've been tough on Kilowatthours. On the 2001 follow-up, "The Bright Side," the band lost a second guitarist to a law career. Gone were the familiar crescendoing power chords and muted drum fills. Stripping it's sound down to basics and building from the ground up, Kilowatthours created a new kind of rock record with an immediacy equal to that of its debut.

In large part Smashing Pumpkins theatrics, the initial slo-core feel of "The Bright Side" burned off as the subtle melodies began to flow with Radiohead-quality grace. Shades of genre-hopping from prog to emo shone through in spots, but not enough to divert attention away from what was most striking - the beauty of the songs and the way they masterfully unfolded. "In My Place" evoked early Sunny Day Real Estate while latter moments of the grungy "Almost Airtight" could have come from any late '80s Sub Pop release.

The response to "The Bright Side" was even more winning than the first, with a sold-out initial pressing and a nationwide headlining tour. But as the word grew stronger, band infrastructure began to fold once again. Losing members to family life and gaining members for a newly solidified rhythm section tampered with the winning sound of "The Bright Side" over the course to the next two EPs. 2003 seemed a major regrouping year for core band members and founders Ben Lord and Chris Renn as they added and subtracted players as they saw fit in the hopes of having a follow-up album to "The Bright Side" at year's end. But it never materialized.

A "we're still around" tour followed in early '04, and the band had grown from three to five members. So in an effort to re-launch the band, Kilowatthours became Up the Empire. Is there any other difference besides the name? Not really.

Finally free of a revolving cast of members, Up the Empire sounds like a band reaping the benefits of familiarity, evolving into the fully realized noise-pop band at which "The Bright Side" so cautiously hinted. Less ethereal than its previous output, first single "Stars at Noon" rolls along on the strength of a taut rhythm, bass-as-a-lead-instrument hooks and altogether cleaner vocals from Renn. While recorded output for the newly named Up the Empire clocks in at a scant three songs, the initial results, helmed by Deerhoof and Erase Errata producer Jay Pellicci, are as promising as anything Kilowatthours ever did.

With Live 8 packing the town Saturday, Up the Empire's Thursday show at the Khyber should prove a good comedown from the heaving throngs of freebie concertgoers. 9 p.m. 56 S. Second St. $8. With Big Truck, Walker Lundee and The Prosthetics. (215) 238.5888.