Sneering Satire Doesn’t Overwhelm Talent of Austin Lounge Lizards

The seeds of the Austin Lounge Lizards were sown when two Princeton students shared a startling revelation: “Hey, our forthcoming history degrees aren’t exactly suited for gainful employment.”

So in 1976, soon-to-be singer-songwriter-guitarists Hank Card and Conrad Deisler started playing together while attending law school at the University of Texas. Soon the twosome recruited string player Tom Pittman and started a real band.

More than 15 years and seven albums later--including the new “Employee of the Month”--the satire-minded group (which evolved into a five-piece) has carved a modest career lampooning just about everything: pop culture, politics, religion, National Public Radio, country music--even itself.

But a few words of clarification. First, don’t let the name fool you. Yes, they are indeed from Austin. Only forget about that “lounge” part. They don’t play that kitschy, retro-based style associated with scenesters who indulge in cocktail-hour martinis and cigars.

Proficient players, these Lounge Lizards prefer a well-crafted, acoustic-driven blend of country, folk and bluegrass. They just love to tweak things a bit.

A glance at a few song titles gives you an idea of how twisted they can be. A sampling from their catalog of near-hits-and-misses: “Gingrich the Newt,” “Shallow End of the Gene Pool,” “Teenage Immigrant Welfare Mothers on Drugs,” “Paint Me on Velvet” . . . well, you get the idea. Along with having respectable musical chops, what makes this quintet more than a Steve Martin playing banjo on “Saturday Night Live” novelty act is the imagination, wit and craft behind the sarcastic salvos.

A multidimensional work, “Employee of the Month” balances the fun and frivolity with ruminations on the human condition. For instance, the corny “Rocky Byways” could surely have been a big hit for the late John Denver, and the boys show no mercy for their home state in “Stupid Texas Song,” with vocalist Card (who’s an administrative law judge by day) sneering, “Biggest egos, biggest hair, biggest liars anywhere.”

Speaking of moonlighting, even more hilarious is “Leonard Cohen’s Day Job,” a near-perfect dig at the Canadian troubadour’s penchant for heavy-osity. This dirge, which reinvents Cohen as a part-time auto mechanic, is a masterful stroke of irreverence.

Other noteworthy selections address social concerns with both humor and compassion. “Love in a Refrigerator Box” spreads a hopeful message of love and family unity among our nation’s homeless. In contrast, the country- and cajun-flavored “The Dogs, They Really Miss You”--which features the dazzling fiddle work of Richard Bowden--provides a nice bookend with its commentary about the numbing fallout of divorce.

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The album’s smartest and most playful track is the catchy, pop-like “Hey, Little Minivan.” According to the Lizards, cruising into middle age means trading in your T-Bird for a van (eek!) to “schlep all the girls to gymnastics class while listening to Magic 95.” Musically, this snappy, harmony-laden merger of the Beach Boys’ “Fun, Fun, Fun” and “Little Duece Coupe” finds these parody-rich Texans paying their rightful respects. Who woulda thunk it?

All right, not every song here clicks. “Monkey on My Back” and “The Other Shore” sound uninspired and pass by uneventfully. And no song ascends to the pinnacle of the group’s classic “Brain Damage,” its bluegrass-y version of Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” cut. (The reworked gem can be found on 1991’s “Lizard Vision” LP.)

Still, the disappointments are few, and overall the collection radiates fun, adventure and invention. Come to think of it, fretting over those bachelor of arts degrees in history led to something good after all.

Albums are rated from * (poor) to **** (excellent), with *** denoting a solid recommendation.

* The Austin Lounge Lizards play tonight at Shade Tree Stringed Instruments, 28062 Forbes Road, Laguna Niguel. 7:30 p.m. $15 (714) 364-5270.