The Warlocks: Sound of the underground

The Warlocks have cast a spell on audiences over here, much to the surprise of their front man, Bobby Hecksher. But then, as he tells Steve Jelbert, his LA band do deal in heavy-duty magic

"Do I sound crazy?" asks Bobby Hecksher. The vocalist and leader of the seven-piece Los Angeles band The Warlocks has just launched into an impassioned complaint that shows aren't what they used to be in a glorious era before he was even born, when each paying punter received a programme of the night's events and when every show was "something the kids are going to remember".

No, not crazy. He sounds like he cares.

"I really do care, I really do," Hecksher yelps excitably. "When we got here we were surprised to have a bus with a driver and a tour manager. Some bands take that shit for granted. Not me, man. If I could, we'd have four-hour soundchecks. And one day I will." He shakes his head to emphasise the point. "One day I will."

Some might suggest The Warlocks need that long to set up anyway. They have three guitarists, a bassist, a keyboardist and two drummers, so by the time most sound engineers have worked out who's doing what, the show is pretty much over. But when they click, they truly transcend their obvious influences, and provide the most gloriously bubblegum evocation of the drug experience since cartoons got "freaky" and Scooby snacked over 30 years ago. Think of a sunnier Velvet Underground, and you get some idea where they're coming from. Despite the seriously grinding likes of the single "Hurricane Heart Attack" (oddly reminiscent of the great drug band Happy Mondays) and "Cosmic Letdown", what other band could come up with catchy tunes bearing titles such as "Shake the Dope Out" and "The Dope Feels Good" (which shares both its chords – C and F – with Herman's Hermits' "I'm into Something Good", a song that probably wasn't about "dope").

Asked about such blatant narcoticisms, Hecksher explains them away thus: "I'd like to say those songs are about people, all my songs are." People he's still in touch with? "Some of them, yeah. Nobody knows who they're about," he shrugs.

People over here get it straight away of course. Their first British full-length release, The Phoenix Album, isn't even out here yet and already The Warlocks have inspired scenes of classic abandon among audiences craving some accessible Hollywood glamour. Hecksher can't believe his luck.

"The shows have been packed. People are grabbing at me, trying to take my gloves, my scarf, my shoes, my set list, my songbook, my pedals!" he says, in wonderment, carefully adding, "I'm very grateful." Well, we do tend to take music very seriously over here. "I love it. That's the way I am about bands. I want to see them and see every song and love every song."

In a rock scene currently led by New York bands who might nod to London but turn their nose up at the rest of the United States, and Detroit acts who hardly care that New York, let alone the rest of the world, exists, it's great to come across a band of unashamed Anglophiles from the world capital of creative misinterpretation. No jaded bunch of English scruffs would ever be seen to openly care as much as The Warlocks do about getting things right.

"Maybe it's my pessimistic outlook, but I thought you guys would hate us, because you did it first. You did it better first," laughs Hecksher nervously. He's an unashamed fan of British acts such as The Jesus and Mary Chain and Spacemen 3, and probably isn't totally aware of just how erratic his inspirations actually are. His band follow in an underrated West Coast tradition, best exemplified by the Dandy Warhols, his friends Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and the relatively obscure, ridiculously named local stars The Brian Jonestown Massacre. At one point, Hecksher helped their leader, his neighbour Anton Newcombe, out of a certain creative funk ("He'd fired his band, was on drugs and had gone insane"), playing bass for The Massacre and even getting Newcombe's gear out of hock.

The Warlocks are something of a fantasy band for Hecksher, a veteran of the Los Angeles scene, who played guitar on Beck's fearsomely uncommercial 1994 album Stereopathetic Soulmanure and dabbled in synth sounds in the now defunct Magic Drive. "I always wanted to be in a band with two drummers, but it was a matter of time before it happened. When The Warlocks started up it was with anyone I could get into the band," he says. "Another thing, it's really hard to find two drummers who like to play together, but Jason and Danny lock really well. And they're both left-handed, which is weird."

Such wish fulfilment sounds much like the impulse that drove Tim DeLaughter to form the similarly OTT Polyphonic Spree (astutely described by Hecksher as "a good show, every song's the last one"). Yet it doesn't stop there. "My intention is high fidelity. All the records of ours you hear are made for chump change – $5,000 a pop. The most important hurdle is to sound better, to sound timeless, and make the record that's there forever," he proclaims, "As for live shows, cheesy and sappy as it sounds, that's what I'm here for. All the money we make is going back into the show!"

You've got to love him for it. But then, we are talking about a man who knows full well that both The Velvet Underground and Grateful Dead started off their careers as "The Warlocks". Hecksher even signed his first contract in blood, rather messily – you can see the smeared document on their website. What would you do if you ever had to sign the Big One, the multi-million dollar deal? "I could lose a finger," he laughs.

For now just being here seems to be enough, although he knows their current popularity will count for nothing back in LA. "Our own home town is the hardest place to play, because we've played it fifty billion times. All this shit that's happening here now? My friends won't believe me," he gently moans. Still, he's getting away with it for now. "Some people never find out what they should be doing. If it all ends tomorrow, I'd be bummed, but I'd still feel pretty good. If we don't become the biggest thing in the world, big deal. At least I moved somebody."

And, after all, who else from LA has ever been mobbed in Stockton-on-Tees? That's a memory to treasure.

'Hurricane Heart Attack' is out now on City Rockers. 'The Phoenix Album' is released next week