Khaki-clad office hipsters will be happy to know they can crawl out of their hidey-holes more than once every three months or so. After all, if they want to pretend they're in Williamsburg among all the beautiful young people -- not living in a house with vinyl siding in Carrick -- there are places to do that here besides the twice-in-a-blue-moon Interpol or TV on the Radio concert, or the occasional celeb afterparty at Brillobox.
There's also the Lava Lounge. For years, this unassuming bar -- deceptively average from the outside, although the interior was possibly designed by the silicon-based Horta creature from Star Trek -- has hosted scads of local and touring indie bands, as well as the Thermal DJ night. It's been a haven for slightly more sophisto South Siders who crave a break from the jock mentality and the tattooed Social D punks who relentlessly roam Carson Street, yet can't afford tapas at Mallorca -- as well as those foolhardy souls who (shudder to think!) dare to cross bridges from other neighborhoods.
Fitting perfectly into that milieu is The Jaguar Club. The brand-new Brooklyn band's debut EP, Ceci n'est pas le Club de Jaguar, sounds like the members watched 24 Hour Party People, listened to an Editors CD, took in an Interpol show at Bowery Ballroom, and then exclaimed, "Hey, we can do that!"
And then they did, planning their first extended jaunt outside Hipster City for the hottest month of the year. This tousle-haired trio of smartly dressed boys realizes they could be the love children of Robert Smith or Ian McCulloch (if said New Wave icons consorted with groupies in the Hotel Chelsea around, say, 1983), and they don't hesitate to act accordingly. The instrumental break on the single, "The Sirens," has a distinct New Order remix flavor, while "Beautiful House" could be a lost track from Pornography or The Queen Is Dead.
Nor does The Jaguar Club shy from referencing current dancepunk such as Franz Ferdinand on tunes like the lead-off "Beat of My Heart": "Wake up, take me out, and show me a good time / You can call me Mr. Dancefloor / And you'll never believe me / But I just hit the beat of my heart." When plaintive crooner (and McCulloch coif-alike) Will Popadic sings such lyrics over Yoichiro Fujita's echo-laden basslines and Jeremiah Joyce's solid beats, it's a brooding New Romantic sentiment that few attendees of '80s Night should be able to resist.
The Jaguar Club with Vita Ruins and The Sexes. 9 p.m. Thu., Aug. 23. Lava Lounge, 2204 E. Carson St., South Side. $4. 412-431-5282