p>THE MEMBERS OF L.A.-by-way-of-San Francisco trio Black Rebel Motorcycle Club have long been known to wear their hearts and their influences on their sleeves. You couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting a critical reference to the Jesus and Mary Chain surrounding the band’s first two records. They have also been known to be rather petulant interview subjects. But after some personal and professional turmoil, BRMC reemerged with last year’s acclaimed Howl, which was a major departure. In a recent conversation from his L.A. home, guitarist and co-lead vocalist Peter Hayes posited the possible negative repercussions of their evolution.

“It was a definite worry that we’d be ticking off fans that expected a different sound,” says Hayes. “But we went with the feeling that if you’re a fan of this band, then you’re a fan of music, and it’s all coming from different places. That feeling was the most important thing. We had a kind of faith and hope that the truth is that what’s behind it and what’s being said [can be] more important than the sound of it.”

After their early success, it came as something of a shock when Virgin Records dropped the band after the release of 2003’s Take Them On, On Your Own. But the boys rebounded quickly, and signed with RCA for the release of Howl. Visa problems and internal tensions led the band to split with their London-based drummer Nick Jago for a spell, but he rejoined in time for their initial shows in support of the new record. So while it may be easy to see these upheavals as the impetus for the shift in musical direction, the truth is that the bluesy, Americana-drenched songs of Howl were a long time coming.

“We’ve had a bunch of these songs, five or so, since the first album,” says Hayes. “We thought they were strong enough songs to put on an album, and we knew this was their style. A lot of the stuff we do starts with acoustic guitars in hotel rooms and living rooms and back porches. It’s not like we can have amplifiers and effects pedals everywhere we go. For some songs, they translate to electric. [With others], you plug them in and it’s not that song anymore.”

The gamble has paid off for the band, as Howl found a place in many critics’ year-end best lists (including a very strong #7 finish at Magnet). While Hayes admits he had some trepidation (“I was expecting that it was the perfect setup for someone to trash the fuck out of us,” he says), what initially could’ve been read as a kind of genre exercise really does work. Songs like “Ain’t No Easy Way” and “Suspicion Holds You Tight” find the band very much at home in the country-blues idiom. And while the contrast to their Virgin records sound is pretty pronounced, the songs and performances are very genuine. Hayes admits that the critical notices have been gratifying; “From the beginning, we thought it’d be important to show people that we’re not a one-trick pony, and that we take [our music] seriously.”

After years of being portrayed in the press as ill-tempered and somewhat derivative, Hayes has found it rewarding that critics and fans have been able to see past their image to the sound underneath.

“You read things [about the band] like, ‘These guys are moody bastards, they wear all black, they’re called Black Rebel Motorcycle Club,’” he say. “After a time, you forget that people are actually listening. It’s been really fuckin’ cool that people are talking about the music. It gives you hope that people do give a shit.”