Work shift: Play

The Whipsaws have scored the ultimate independent rock band's dream, and it isn't a major label deal -- it's a free rehearsal space stocked with a lifetime's supply of cold beer.

But the taps in the wall of the Moose's Tooth Brewing Co. warehouse aren't working too hard this Sunday afternoon. Guitarist Aaron Benolkin and drummer James Dommek Jr. each nurse glasses of their favorite microbrews between songs, but the quartet is chugging water like a football team doing two-a-days. This is a work shift for the Whipsaws, a band which is also a business, an honest to goodness LLC.

This second straight day of three-hour rehearsals is preparation for a series of release parties for the band's new CD, "60 Watt Avenue," this month and the base for touring the Lower 48 later this year.

"One more time," singer Evan Phillips says after the band's third stab at "Where I Live," a song by Canadian singer-songwriter Leeroy Stagger. Stagger will open the Whipsaws' upcoming shows, and the band plans to back him on a few tunes.

Satisfied with this try, the band strolls into a room full of massive silver tubs of brewing beer. Benolkin turns on an iPod stereo and plays another Stagger song the group has to learn. They've occasionally rehearsed in this building since forming, an arrangement procured by Benolkin, who daylights as a Moose's Tooth brewer.

After just five years of grinding and gigging from Fairbanks to Kennicott to Seward, the group already stands as an institution: Alaska's undisputed bar band champions. The Whipsaws' sound -- a sometimes crunchy, sometimes melodic blend of country and rock that critics call Americana and the band calls Alaskan Rock 'n' Roll -- and boot-stomping live shows pack tiny taverns such as the Brown Bear Saloon in Indian and sell out spacious rooms like the Bear Tooth Theatrepub.

But just as the band has established a signature sound and a semi-lucrative in-state touring circuit, the Whipsaws are scrapping the whole deal. In 2007, band members -- including bass player Ivan Molesky, who joined the group in October 2006 -- agreed to take the leap and dedicate two years to seeing how far they can take the Whipsaws. And for a group whose members who are in their mid-20s to early 30s, that means the possibility of quitting stable day jobs and leaving behind family and friends for months.

"We're spoiled up here, but we can't just keep playing up here," Benolkin admitted. "Playing music is something we all love, but we want to make it our living. We believe that's within reach, so we're going to at least try it or it would be something we all regret later."

"60 Watt Avenue" is the starting point. The album is a departure from the band's 2006 country-fest "Ten Day Bender," which played like a novel about old-time Alaska's mysterious faces and majestic places. Phillips describes the title "60 Watt Avenue" as "a metaphor for the road to rock 'n' roll," and it leads the band through garage rocking ("Sinferno") to acoustic plucking ("Lonesome Joe"), honky- tonking ("Jessi Jane") to good ol' rock 'n' rolling ("High Tide").

"I think with the first record, we pigeonholed ourselves a bit," Phillips, the band's lead songwriter, explained. "It was real thick on the country side. As this record evolved more, we developed into a rock band."

Fittingly, the rocking track "60 Watt" leads off the album, and equally fitting, the band hopes that sending the album to clubs and radio stations around the world will create a buzz that will help the band spend half of 2008 touring.

"I think we feel like we can play with anybody right now," Phillips said. "We didn't feel that way two years ago. Now, we could go on tour with a band like Drive-By Truckers, open for a band like that. Just walk onstage, do what we do and not blink an eye."

The Whipsaws have hired a lawyer and a management team that is negotiating distribution deals and shipping out CDs for promotion.

But four company employees aren't getting paid. The band played about 100 four-hour gigs in 2007, but the members sacrificed their pay to finance touring and the making of "60 Watt Avenue," which weighed in at a hefty $20,000. It was recorded locally with Erik Braund but mixed in New Jersey by John Agnello, whose resume spans Sonic Youth to Son Volt.

"Something that's been nice about working in this band is we don't worry about money," Benolkin said. "We worry about doing it right."

This might be work, but it certainly isn't punching a clock.

Nearing the end of rehearsal, the session becomes suddenly serious for the first time all day. Phillips begins to dissect a Stagger song that the band has seemingly just nailed. Then Phillips pauses and announces, "It's not about having fun at practice -- it's work!"

The crew laughs, but Phillips stays in character.

"Do you guys want careers or what?" he yells. "I'm not going to give you your monthly $25 stipend!"

Phillips joins in the chuckles, then suggests the band wrap up rehearsal by taking another run at a new original, the surprisingly sugary and incredibly irresistible "Don't You Want to Be in Love?"

"We're getting in touch with our pop side," Phillips said, sparking another round of laughter.

After stumbling a bit on the song earlier in rehearsal, the band cruises through this take. Its sing-song lyrics and hop-along rhythm draw two friends out of a nearby room. They peek inside, nod their heads and tap their hands against their jeans.

The band also gets caught up in the song, which is sprinkled with mini-solos for each member. Phillips and Benolkin make eye contact, smile then turn to Dommek, who slams a cymbal to end the song.

"Awwww, we did it!" Dommek shouts.

The workday is over.

• Find Play editor Josh Niva online at adn.com/contact/jniva or call 257-4328.

The Whipsaws

Multiple performances:

• 8 p.m. today, Great Bear Brewing Co. (238 N. Boundary St., Wasilla, 1-907-373-4782), acoustic CD-release party, with Leeroy Stagger, free.

• 9 p.m. Saturday, Snow Goose Theatre (717 W. Third Ave., 277-7727), with Tim Easton, $15 advance (Snow Goose, Metro Music), $17 at the door.

• 10 p.m. Jan. 11-12, The Marlin (Fairbanks, 1-907-479-4646), with Tim Easton and Leeroy Stagger, $8.

Web: www.thewhipsaws.com, http://www.myspace.com/thewhipsaws.

WATCH IT: You are just one click away from rocking and rolling with The Whipsaws and hearing about the characters and sounds that inspire the band. Visit Play editor Josh Niva's audio slideshow here.

The Whipsaws

60 Watt Avenue

Audio: Songs available for listening at www.thewhipsaws.com and http://www.myspace.com/thewhipsaws.

After the Whipsaws' previous album -- cohesive, comical, with as keen a sense of place as one could imagine -- "60 Watt Avenue" is disappointing. Familiar, but disappointing.

Their well-hewn sound, from "Ten Day Bender" (2006) and countless live performances, is firmly in place, nicely mixed, homey and as pleasing as ever. They're helped by a new musician, Ivan Molesky, on bass, and a handful of guest performers.

But many tracks fail to inspire. "Coming Home" features a redundant, seesaw melody with such mediocre poetry as "Things might come and things might go, but loving you is the best thing that I've known/ So keep on with the good and bad, and don't forget the times we had." "Stick Around" includes photocopied lines from Dave Matthews ("Is this real, or am I dreaming?") and Jewel ("pieces of you") that one sort of doubts were meant as tributes. And can't the extremity of an Alaska winter inspire sharper observation than "It's a cold, cold December/ More dark than light"?

To the band's great credit, the instrumentals are as precise and soulful as they ever were. Energetic solos break out over skillful plucking and mellow beats that nonetheless make you want to dance. The pedal steel crying in the background of "Lonesome Joe" is sweet enough that it makes the track seem a love song, even if it's really about a hard drinker and his misfortunate life. And "Ode to Shakey" is a unique wordless scrap of a tune that crackles into sonic focus, then ambles along quietly in easy four-instrument cooperation.

The songwriting itself tends to be lacking, though. The word "bland" comes to mind, repeatedly. These are four musicians who clearly train passionately on their instruments and have for many years. Would that their compositions were treated the same way.

-- Lillie Dremeaux

Daily News music reviewer