The coasts are clear

It's dinner time, and Rademacher have just rolled into Manhattan's lower east side, successfully wedging their Pontiac Montana touring beast into a parallel spot somewhere near Delancey Street.

"It's tricky parking the van here," says Malcolm Sosa in understated fashion. Like the other three band members, he's from Fresno, Calif. Unlike the other three, the lead vocalist/guitarist used to live in New York, which means he's now having to lead them all down long sidewalks toward a favorite restaurant while reading street signs, dodging pedestrians and answering interview questions over a cell phone connection supportive of basic comprehension and little else.

When asked to report what he sees, war correspondent-style, Sosa laughs. "What do I see? Construction, lots of construction. Garbage bags everywhere. It's New York City. We're all vegetarians -- you know, California people -- so we're going to this good place I know a couple of streets down."

Rademacher are a long way from home, but the transcontinental drive correlates with a similar crossing in their music. Growing up in Fresno meant absorbing the textured, mid-'90s neo-psychedelia of local bands like Earlimart and Grandaddy. If they'd all stuck close to California's Central Valley, that might have been that, but Sosa left home with what he'd learned locally and looked at it again through the lens of a steelier New York indie sensibility. It seemed to him that each coast had something the other didn't and lacked something the other had.

"I lived [in New York] for a long time, and I was influenced by Interpol and those guys," he explains over a baby screaming nearby. "There was something I really liked about that atmosphere. Now it's like I'm bringing it back to Fresno, trying to kind of update the sound in a way. Combining the angular, jumpy guitars with the more pastoral elements, more folksy elements. Actually, Sonic Youth has always been a big influence on all four of us."

The four of them are two women and two men: Drummer Taruko Asami and bassist Greer McGettrick hold down rhythm and rumble for Sosa and second guitarist Brad Basmajian. Everyone sings at some point. Bloggers and indie critics have compared the band's new EP, Heart Machine, to Pavement -- another California band who warmed to (and warmed up) the layered feedback freakout used by New York-based Sonic Youth to help break a '70s- and '80s-imposed noise barrier more than 20 years ago.

But even apt comparisons can never (or at least should never be able to) capture the listening experience. So it goes with this band, but it does help that what Sosa says about the origins of Rademacher's hybrid style doesn't just amount to rhapsodizing over how he'd like to sound. The east/west cross is evident on Heart Machine, four songs composed in collaboration with songwriter Mike Mancillas. "You're Never Gonna Hear from Me" opens the EP in the coolly isolated Interpol way, but soon opts against that band's sustained, thin-tie detachment in favor of greater mobility. On "Argument," chords and rhythm follow a meandering emotional path while Sosa's vocals stumble past what's cool and into a reckless falsetto that's sloppy, organic and refreshingly unhip.

The show in Manhattan comes about two-thirds of the way through a U.S. tour that ends June 17 at the Beauty Bar in Las Vegas. It won't quite be home for Rademacher, but it'll be closer, geographically, to the hippie fan base Sosa describes as being so close to their hearts. But good hippies are where you find them. Asked which shows have been the best so far, he confers with his hungry bandmates, all still hoofing it in search of this restaurant.

"Hey, which shows have been the best?"

"Flagstaff," says a female voice.

"Flagstaff, Ariz., was really fun," relays Sosa. "We're playing mostly weekdays, which are slower, but this was a Saturday night. Small town, great energy. A bunch of fun, weirdo hippie people who like the same stuff we do." He interrupts himself. "I'm sorry, I'm getting everyone lost here. We're a block away from where we should be."

While they get their bearings, Sosa explains why Rademacher's 50/50 gender split works so nicely. "We travel together surprisingly well -- I say as someone's, uh, choking me here. Yeah, there's a good balance between boys and girls, so it never gets too boyish or girlish. No one's getting drunk and throwing punches, and no one's getting drunk and crying either."

Rademacher soon arrive at the vegetarian place where Sosa finishes his last thought before heading in after the others. "Yeah, we've been together in this lineup for about nine months. Long enough that we're totally comfortable with each other, but still have the potential to get a lot better."

Rademacher
Sat., June 17, 9 p.m.
Beauty Bar
517 Fremont St.
598-1965
$10