Gary Louris and Marc Perlman of the Jayhawks are comfortable in chaos. The two sit, legs crossed, quietly sipping on post-show beers, oblivious to the bedlam that surrounds them.

Ground zero for the interview is a cramped room at The Riviera Theater in Chicago directly beneath a stage that is presently hosting a pumped-up Jeff Tweedy and his band, Wilco. It sounds as if the ceiling is made out of cardboard. My audio guy flashes me a look of panic as Tweedy unleashes a blood-curdling howl as he rips into "Unsatisfied," sending the overly complex machine into spasms. To top it all off, the TV in the corner of the room is on and tuned to ESPN, so that updates on some vital hockey match can be monitored (did I mention that the Jayhawks are from Minnesota?) Despite it all, Gary and Marc seem right at home.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. The last two years have been pretty chaotic for the Jayhawks. They lost their lead singer and song writer, Mark Olson, which resulted in a breakup of the band. After some time off and a significant amount of soul searching, they picked up the pieces and reformed, this time with Louris at the helm, taking on the lead vocals and the lion's share of song writing. They also brought new producer into the fold, Brian Paulson (Beck, Wilco, Superchunk) and found a new sound.

Their new release, Sound of Lies is a testament to their ability to thrive in such adversity and proof positive of their right to retain the moniker. It is truly a Jayhawks album -- full of contrasts, substance and humor, harmony and edge.

Despite the absence of Olson, the band has yielded their most heartfelt and musically diverse album to date. The new sound is heavier, but more versatile than the old Jayhawks. Louris' trademark lyrical precision is couched in complex arrangements that showcase the band's movement towards the pop. However, at the root of each song are the lyrics. Songs like "Big Star" are achingly confessional, "I'm flat busted/wide-eyed and true/couldn't get arrested if I tried/a as been at a mere thirty five." Louris has always been a powerful writer, but in Olson'sabsence, he seems to have made a breakthrough.

But lyrics are nothing without a vehicle. The chemistry of the new line-up (Louris -- guitar/vocals, Perlman -- bass/vocals, Karen Grotberg -- keys/vocals, Tim O'Reagan --drums/vocals, Kraig Johnson -- guitar and Jessy Green -- fiddle) is obviously right. The band works together like clockwork, and according to interviews, this can be attributed to the fact that they are approaching the creative process as a democracy.

"No," Perlman smirks. "It's more like a dictatorship of the proletariat. The moment that Mark left the band, Gary was like, 'the king is dead, long live the king!' That's what happened with that one."

"Marc is the Marxist," interjects Louris.

"It really has changed," continues Perlman. "The attitude has changed as to how we approach the music. As good a job as George Drakoulias [producer of their last two albums] did on the last album, the band really didn't have much say on how it should come out...on arrangements and such. Just doing a record ourselves really opened things up. Part of it is that we didn't deserve to do our own record, because we weren't really there. This is the first line-up of this band where everyone has a certain amount of respect for each other."

This shift has inspired a beautiful combination of their folk roots with a new, harder-edged pop sound. The effect has bled into their live show as well. Some older material has been rearranged to accommodate churning guitar riffs and livelier percussion. The band clearly functions as unit onstage. One might go so far as to say that they are enjoying themselves, something that couldn't always be said of the original formation.

"Well, we stumbled onto this weird concept of having fun," says Louris. "You look at a lot of people and it's clear that they hate their audience, or hate their band members. We're just happy to be up there with each other."
The Jayhawks' flight from traditional arrangements has caused something of a backlash from die-hard fans. Those expecting to hear the stripped-down country/folk and keening melodies that Louris and Olson became known for, have been forced to open themselves up a bit. The old Jayhawk sound is still there, its just a little louder. Certain high-profile industry rags have joined in the fray, publishing puerile rants criticizing the new album.

"We got so many shitty reviews on this record" quips Perlman. "It's so cool."

"Bad reviews are a little more fun to read than good ones," adds Louris.

"You have to remember that rock critics make up about one billionth of the population of music listeners," explains Perlman. "I their life is writing record reviews, they're a little too involved."

It's clear that this subject is familiar territory for the two.

"There are two magazines that I will have absolutely no respect for unless they fire their entire editorial staff," says Perlman.

"Spin..." Louris is all over this one.

"Spin and Rolling Stone," says Perlman as he finishes his thought. "No respect. I don't know who does, aside from 17-year-old Offspring fans."

"I don't know anyone who reads those magazines. I wish I could give them a review. It's so preposterous," remarks Louris.

"I never get bothered by that shit," continues Perlman. "It's discouraging because you make a life for yourself as a musician and you realize that the industry pretty much revolves around the taste makers at Spin and Rolling Stone. It's kind of like beating your head against a wall, because these people are completely and utterly clueless."

It's been an interesting journey for the Jayhawks. Thirteen years have produced 5 albums and a passionate following. What began as a sound closer to the Louvin Brothers and Buck Owens has followed a logical progression to its current incarnation - one flush with rock hooks, and power chords.

"I still love a lot of that music," explains Louris. "At the time it was really rebellious. We were playing country music to people who didn't even realize that it was country music. We would just turn our Peavey amps up really loud and play our songs. We did a lot more folk songs than country songs. But it was different. We lived in a town with the best bands around - Husker Du, the Replacements, Soul Asylum. We wanted to do something different. And we did it for twelve years. I guarantee that these people who are doing it now, the kings of alternative country, won't be doing it in twelve years." Louris pauses to exhale a drag of his cigarette. "You have to keep your creative blood flowing. I'm not saying that we'll never do it again, we still love some of that music.

Many have interpreted Mark Olson's departure as a green light for the band go pop. Which, as Louris is quick to point out, is largely untrue.

"If you listen to Tomorrow the Green Grass, there's definitely a transition there," explains Louris. "Mark had a lot of pop sensibilities too. It wasn't that he was the country guy and I was the pop guy, although it might have been a little of that. When we started practicing again we did it the old way. We had a pedal steel guy come up to the practice space, but you could notice that Mark was 'gone' more. Doing it differently made the transition easier for us."

The difference is obvious. The new Jayhawks are just that...new. Speaking with them, it's clear that there is an energy that stems from that newness. It seems as if they know that they have it right this time. They're focused, and with the rush and confusion of an upcoming world tour including Europe and Asia, they seem right at home.

BRANDON BARBER