When Rosavelt issued its 1997 debut , Carp and Bones , it was instantly lauded as one of Cleveland's best local acts. Since that time, the group released one more album — 1999's Transistor Blues — and has racked up local music award after local music award. It was almost too much too soon.

“I think [the attention] has been good and bad, even from the first time we won one of those awards,” says singer-guitarist Chris Allen via phone from New York, where the band was preparing to play the Mercury Lounge. “We thought there was some kind of target on us. I think local bands at first didn't know what to make of us. Now that we've become friends with some of these people, they realize that we just worked hard. It was definitely kind of strange. It's not like we ever thought we were too big for our britches. We're just a working rock band. That's one of the reasons I really like Cleveland. The press and clubs have been really supportive. It makes getting out of town a lot easier because we've got a lot of press in our hometown.”

The press often centered on the fact that both Allen and singer-guitarist Kevin Grasha wrote good songs. Like Uncle Tupelo's Jeff Tweedy and Jay Farrar, the two amplified each other's strengths. So when Grasha left the group a couple of years ago, the band took a hiatus of sorts. Grasha moved out of town, and Allen put out a record with the Bedroom Allstars and played the occasional St. Patty's Day party with the Boys from County Hell, a rowdy Pogues cover act comprised of local musicians from different bands.

Rosavelt did record an album during this time. Called Goodbye Rollercoaster , it featured guest appearances by Guided by Voices guitarist Doug Gillard and local singer-songwriter Anne E. DeChant. Though it might still be released, it didn't see the light of day.

“It was kinda nice to take a break without being all dramatic about it,” Allen says. “We've been actively inactive. Now it's like the first time we ever played.”

A year and a half ago, Rosavelt opened for singer-songwriter Don Dixon and played a set of new songs. The set went over well and even impressed Dixon, who's produced bands such as R.E.M. and the Smithereens.

“It brought the whole thing back to life,” Allen says of the show.

The band went out and recruited Jesse Bryson, son of the Raspberries' Wally Bryson, with the hopes that he could provide backing vocals. Bryson has turned out to be a good second guitarist, and the band's even playing one of his songs in its sets.

“He really changed the dynamic,” Allen says of Bryson.

With Bryson, Rosavelt recruited Dixon to produce the album. Dixon set up shop at the Beachland Ballroom, and the band virtually recorded the resulting disc, The Story of Gasoline , live.

“The guy is such a pro and we got along so well, it was the easiest record we ever recorded,” Allen says. “We're looking forward to working with him again. We were lucky to find the guy. We always produced our own records, and I wouldn't do it again.”

Right from the gritty opening number, “Gasoline,” the album brings out the band's rock side. Especially on tracks like the parched “A Little Bit of Trouble,” Allen's raspy voice has more in common with Paul Westerberg than Tweedy or Farrar, making it seem like the band went out of its way to avoid sounding like an alt-country act.

“I've never felt that big a part of [the alt-country scene] anyway,” Allen says. “I love a lot of that music. I've always considered us a rock band from the beginning. It's like calling [the Replacements'] Tim alt-country because it's got ‘Waitress in the Sky' on it. I never viewed us as [alt-country]. Anyone who's seen us live knows that.”

Having national distribution through Gaff Music, which will issue the disc on June 15 (the date was pushed back a month, but Allen says the band will have copies for sale at the band's CD release show), Rosavelt will tour most of the year with singer-songwriter Tim Easton. After a Midwest jaunt, the band will spend two-and-a-half weeks in Alaska and then head to Europe. It's a triumphant end to what's been a rough couple of years.

“I had been through a couple relationships in a row that didn't work out,” Allen says of the time he spent writing Gasoline . “Relatives were sick. People left town. It was everything at once. I usually gig all the time, and for four or five weeks, I didn't have many gigs. One afternoon I called Dixon, and he told me to write a record, and I just started writing like crazy. I just feel lucky to have the outlet to do that. The whole record feels like a big victory to me."