Yo.

My boss's idea, this.

"Why don't you start a blog (and charge a subscription)?" he asked.

And I go, "Hey, that's a good idea." ('Cept for the subscription part.)

Good idea 'cause everyone's always asking: "What's up with the band?"

As if I were in the band.

I'm not, but I am endlessly entertained by the band, freakin' weirdos.

By lead singer Dave Podell, who is among the wittiest, smartest, most conflicted people I've known.

Dave's dad, Art Podell, was a member of The New Christy Minstrels, a folk band responsible for a gold record once upon a time. So when Dave goes to his dad, sweating his big show coming up at The Whisky A Go Go, Dave gets a dose of perspective: "That's not a big show, son. That's a nice show, but that's not a big show. Come talk to me about a big show when you're playing the Greek."

In-studio, Dave is a perfectionist, nit-picking each and every detail of each and every part of each and every song. For the better, mostly.

Lyrically, Dave's honest, honest, honest. It tickles me that I catch myself singing along in my car with him as he wails about wanting to fucking kill terrorists.

Or, more recently, that I find myself belting out the words to their latest and best candidate yet for a would-be, could-be hit, "Humble Me": "... and when I drive myself into your/whole existence disappears/and then I/come to realize/that separation is the only key to harmony."

(Read that again, and you'll appreciate the, uh, sexy cleverness.) (Now go listen to it -- http://www.flashrock.com/cgi-bin/calendar/calendar.pl?month=11&view=Event&event_id=223 -- and you'll be blushing at yourself when you start humming it later too.)

Dave's day job: Telemarketer. Actually, I think he's a manager at a company that slangs tools to unsuspecting midwesterners. Poor folks who buy the "Dave Dalson" on the other end of the line.

Hamlet Nalbandyan, the guitarist, is the heart and soul of the band.

He manages their myspace account and Web site. He makes their flyers. Their practice room at the massive Downtown Rehearsal facility in Los Angeles is under his name, which means that when his bandmates or their roommate band come up short or late, Hamlet makes up the difference.

One of their former drummers (yes, I wrote former DRUMMERS, plural) liked to call everyone "captain." Title worked for Hamlet.

On stage, Hamlet always wears jumpsuits. Or tracksuits. Whatever you want to call 'em, they're the least "metal" looking thing a guitarist could wear on stage. But it's become his trademark.

Hamlet's day job: Design chief/superuser/layout guy at the Costa Mesa Daily Pilot. He commutes an hour-plus from his apartment in Glendale daily, except for those rare days when he gets the OK to work from home. In those instances, he works in front of his HD big screen, listening to ESPN repeat the same four stories all day long.

Omar Marin, the bassist, has four kids. But I'm not supposed to write that.

So strike that from the record.

He brings his Echo Park neighborhood out to shows. It's a big collection of rowdy, loud drinkers, quite possibly the most supportive, loving group of friends I've seen. The centerpiece of the contingent is Omar's wife, Ida, who is quite possibly the loudest cheerleader I've known.

Omar's generally a quiet, smiling dude. A bad-ass, tatted, Little League coach who's easy to work with and so solid in his way.

There've been times when the band seems to be spinning out of control, on the verge of expoloding or imploding, and Omar's been known to say: "I just wanna play, man." Or, when his bandmates complain of practicing a song for the 3,500th time, to remind them, "Hey, man, it's only old to us."

His day job: Mr. Mom.

The drummer... uh. Well, they're working on that. Again.

(Actually, there's good reason to hope. They've been playing a lot the past couple weeks with someone I'll call, hmm, Garrett. But after rushing into the last situation, they've learned that it might be best to "take it slow.")

Some history: Omar and Hamlet once were members of Underpush, which became theAE after Dave joined and petitioned for a new band name.

After plenty of deliberation, they settled on the alchemist element.

Or is it the The Alchemist Element?

Anyway.

The name has come to represent both the collective and their music, a melting pot of styles and experiences, all rooted in metal and mixed with the intention and hope of producing gold.

But, really, "the alchemist element" comes from a combination of words that Omar's buddy Adrian jotted down on a scrap of paper at practice on day. Words that, well, sounded cool.

Naturally, Dave still isn't happy with the name.

... and one, two, one-two-three, here we go!