music

"How long have you guys been a band?" The waitress has just checked the IDs of every member of the Plastic Constellations before handing over a beer pitcher. She gets a few laughs before she gets an answer to her question. "Ten years," singer/guitarist Aaron Mader tells her, awaiting the usual response. "Really?" Really. They're only 23, 24 years old, but the Plastic Constellations are more seasoned in the rock 'n' roll business than many older musicians. In fact, they've been at it long enough to have nearly fallen apart.

Instead of letting adult life ruin their childhood dreams, TPC's members rallied around an album that has finally landed them the record deal they've always wanted, with a hip national indie label. Their new album, "Crusades" -- which came out Tuesday on New York's French Kiss Records -- is all about pursuing your passions, even if it's a battle. "We're always going to be a band that's in it for the right reason: because we love it," Mader said.

Added co-frontman Jeff Allen, "I think that's probably the best thing that came out of us forming in high school."

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The noisy, high-strung rock band -- part Fugazi, Foo Fighters and Foghat -- formed a decade ago when the four members were freshmen at Hopkins High.

Their camaraderie was on full display last week, when they capped off a taping at the Current (89.3 FM) with beer and pizzas at the timelessly cool Mancini's supper club in St. Paul. They were disappointed it wasn't karaoke night, especially since Mader's singing voice had just been described as "a manly Kermit the Frog" by one of the Current's engineers.

"Thanks, I think," was Mader's response, as his bandmates feebly tried to contain their laughter.

Instead of karaoke, though, the Plastic Cons genuinely seemed enamored of that night's band at Mancini's, Steve Millar & Diamondhead. Their set list featured such "Love Boat"-ready hits as "Lady in Red,"Mambo #5 (Little Bit of Rita)" and, best of all, Lionel Richie's "All Night Long."

"I used to really be into Lionel Richie and a lot of that kind of cheesy R&B stuff when I was a kid," said Mader, who moonlights as Laserbeak, a producer/beatmaker for hot rapper P.O.S. and his Doomtree hip-hop crew.

No doubt sensing a skeptical interviewer, bassist Jordan Roske insisted, "It's true. I remember he had a lot of that kind of music."

Close enough to know one another's childhood guilty pleasures, the guys in TPC never stopped getting along. They just stopped getting together as often as they used to.

"It was easy being in a band when we were in high school, because we'd automatically see each other five days a week," Allen explained. "It wasn't so easy when real life set in."

TPC's adventurous but confused 2004 album, "Mazatlan," came at the end of a long stretch of dwindling "band time." They were going to college and/or working day jobs. Allen and Roske were getting more serious with their girlfriends (now their wives).

It was certainly a sharp contrast to 1995, when they were ninth-graders with nothing better to do than rehearse in their parents' basements, trying to become the next big thing out of the Twin Cities.

"We thought we'd be signed to Matador Records in like three years," Mader remembered.

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They certainly appeared to be on the right path. Their first real gig was opening for Low at First Avenue when they were about 15. Their first real album, "Let's War," earned local buzz in 1997. Prince even appeared to dig them when he saw their set at the last Mill City Music Festival in 1999.

Near the beginning of TPC's career, Mader essentially cornered Lifter Puller frontman Craig Finn in the airport. Mader's dad even arranged it so Craig sat next to Aaron on a flight to Chicago. Needless to say, the elder rocker learned all about the younger band.