By Artie Capshaw

We first saw them play as the Argonauts. Turns out that name was taken, and they had to change it. Then, for one show each, they became The Rock Pirates, The Punk Pirates, The Jack Tars, The Buccaneers, The Buckos and The Infringers.

Uh, that last one? “We looked up ‘pirate’ in the thesaurus,” explains the band’s scurrilous cap’n, Jay Mason, “and once you get through all the old seafaring terms, it’s all about copyright infringements.”

But even The Infringers was taken. For an act that wants to be seen as scoundrelly thieves, this one can’t seem to lift a good moniker.

So last night at the Bullfinch, Mason and his mates simply stormed the stage unannounced. How piratical can you get?

Well, you can slash and terrorize and drive the crowd wild with swashbuckling savoir faire. Which is what these, ahem, corsair-inspired musicians (we gotta get these guys a name) did with aplomb. Buckled our swashes all right.

Never underestimate the power of an orchestrated full-band power-chord leap in the air. Even the drummer took part.

Never deny the power of a fist-pumping sing-along. These guys had one which forced loud chants from poseurs whom we’ve never before witnessed opening their mouths at the Bullfinch before.

Never question the advice to quit while one is ahead. Eight short songs and gone. Literally out the door and into the van. (Cap’n Jay skulked back later for payment, we’re told.) The air of mystery smells sweet. Since they were in disguise, we still don’t even know exactly who the rhythm section was. We’re pretty sure the guitarist is that guy from Don’t Step on That Beetle; if so, we never gave that soul act enough respect.

Another surprise—a horn section for the last song. Just the last song. Who holds back a horn section for nearly the whole set, just for the shock effect of that first blast? This band does, enlisting marching-band misfits from the college on the hill and schooling them in stomps and struts.

Finally, all hail the dinky old-school electric keyboard. From its humble casing emerged sounds that mimicked the roar of thunder, the crash of rocks, the warbles of mysterious sirens, one forceful note at a time.

In our short time at the Rock Gods desk, we have not had much time to get jaded. We are astonished at the variety and vivacity of our small city’s scene. Great new bands, we proclaim, are being created every week. We can scour the clubs, colleges, closets and law offices of this empire for eons and continue to turn up new treasures on a frequent basis. (And we are not without standards!)

But, we pause to genuflect, these rock pirates, these kings of the c-chord, these picaroon loons, these new jackies, these triumphant tars, these amiable bluejackets, these

Consider us boarded and raided. A new flag flies on our mast.

Big weekend plans: Perry and Patetics tonight at the Bullfinch, with The Kapusta Kids… World’s Strongest Ant and Public Eye at Hamilton’s, keeping the covers crowd covered… and the better-than-they-sound Rock Mississippi at D’ollaire’s, with even hotter up-and-comers J. Burlington Gearshift….