Behind the Cheese: The secret to performing music with irony

Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine

When Sundays through March (except March 23); 10 p.m.

Where Sunset Station's Club Madrid

Admission Free

Info 702-547-7777

The gimmick of taking a genre of music and performing it in a different style is nothing new. Steve Allen did it during the "Golden Age" of television. Bill Murray's alter-ego, Nick the Lounge Singer, crooned his way through "Saturday Night Live." Black Velvet Flag shook up the Cocktail Nation of the '90s. Now the torch song has been reignited by Richard Cheese and Lounge Against the Machine.

"I'm a big fan of irony," says Mark Jonathan Davis (aka Richard Cheese) during a recent interview at Club Madrid. "It's the wrong thing to do, and I enjoy doing the wrong thing."

Davis is an unlikely and reluctant rock star. During high school, he worked at a hobby store warehouse and passed the time by singing rock-radio hits in the style of Frank Sinatra. In 1994, while working on Kevin and Bean's morning radio show on L.A.'s KROQ, he created the character of Paul Talbert, the 55-year-old intern who recorded his own "retro" versions of alternative hits. Davis eventually started his own company, producing television jingles and commercials, but he still wanted to take his idea further and make an album. With backing from Oglio Records, Lounge Against the Machine was recorded with studio musicians and released in 2000.

"This Richard Cheese thing was not supposed to go this far," he claims. "When we put the album out, I thought, 'I'm going to do a show so I can say I was a rock star.'"

Davis put together a band for a show in Hollywood, and to his surprise, people who weren't friends actually showed up. "We started getting more gigs, and the next thing you know, we've got offers from around the U.S."

Cheese's current backing band is comprised of pianist David Adler (aka Bobby Ricotta), bassist Christopher Monaco (Gordon Brie) and percussionist Charles Byler (Buddy Gouda), seasoned musicians all. When asked if playing modern-day versions of their grandparents' music is their claim to fame, Byler says, laughing: "It's the last thing I thought I'd be doing."

Davis adds, "I think people are really in on the joke." However, Davis continues to be frustrated by people who request songs like "Mack the Knife."

"They think they get it, but they don't get it," he says.

What's the secret to delivering the music with irony? "Making the joke have a lot of layers so people go, 'Wow, that kind of touches me.' Despite the fact that this is a wacky, jokey, novelty band, we do it very carefully."

Being focused and consistent doesn't mean it lacks fun. "I don't think I'm living vicariously through the freedom that Richard Cheese has, but it's certainly fun to be able to go up to a girl and sit on her lap. Richard Cheese doesn't really know he's being offensive and doesn't realize he's about to get beat up by that boyfriend or slapped by that girl. He doesn't know he's pushing the boundaries of good taste."

Last year, the band released a second album, Tuxicity, which meant finding a new batch of songs to swankify. "The litmus test has been, 'Is the song wrong as a lounge song?' The wronger it is, the better."

The Cheese can be witnessed Sunday nights at Sunset Station's Club Madrid. Booked through March, Davis couldn't be more thrilled. "It's been a goal to have a regular gig where we're appreciated," he says.

However, these guys encounter problems the average indie-rock band could never imagine. "I broke my bow tie one night an hour before a show," recalls Davis. "Luckily I was in a casino, so I went down to a blackjack dealer and said, 'Can I have your bow tie?' He said, 'No.' I said, 'I'll give you $10,' and he said, 'OK.'"