No doubt about it

Dave Brooks

Dozens of fans rolled up to the Viper Room on Saturday on two

chartered luxury buses. The four girls who make up the Huntington

Beach rock outfit Mudbath pulled their simple trailer into a

nondescript parking place and got busy unloading amplifiers and

performing sound checks.

Southern California has no shortage of struggling bands, but few

unsigned acts have been as successful at reversing the pop-punk

paradigm as Mudbath. Although the group hasn’t yet been able to earn

a living off its legion of fans -- known as Mudpuppies -- few record

executives can ignore its growing group of supporters who act more

like rock stars than groupies.

For Jenn Mendoza and Jeremy Colacchio, both 21, it was their first

ride on the Mudbus, a Vegas-style liner hired by band manager Kelly

Bartlone to take fans to Mudbath concerts. Mudbath adds other

personal touches as well.

“I thought it was cool that [guitarist Jamie Ross] delivered the

tickets to my house,” Mendoza said.

The buses arrived just minutes before the curtains opened to a

blast of electric distortion and high-pitched screams from the

audience. Mudbath front-girl Sara Barry entered center in her best

Betty Page garb, slithering her hips like an enchanted cobra, her

lips puckered slightly upward to catch the reflection of the overhead

lights on her beauty-mark piercing. She is a Siren, hypnotizing the

audience with eye contact that is convincingly sincere and constantly

fleeting.

“The minute you stop moving, you lose everything,” Barry said. “It

kind of comes to me when I’m singing the song, whatever feels right,

I just go with it.”

Mudbath sounds a lot like another female-fronted rock band from

Orange County, and it’s impossible to not notice the similarities

between Barry’s voice and No Doubt singer Gwen Stefani. Barry said

she’s very influenced by Stefani but wants to break that mold and

stand out on her own. That being said, Mudbath still performs a cover

of Vandals punk homage “Oi to the World,” repopularized when No Doubt

made the song a radio favorite.

The comparisons have probably helped Mudbath, whose growing fan

base includes frequent listeners of popular rock stations. Manager

Bartlone said that she is extremely confident that Mudbath will

eventually make it big; it’s just a matter of timing.

“Instead of chasing record labels, we’re trying to go in through

the backdoor,” she said. “We want to develop the fan base and show

that we can sell out places like the Whiskey with people pounding on

the doors to get in. That will get their attention.”

Few record executives could laugh at the dedication of the band’s

followers, eager to gobble up any merchandise christened with the

Mudbath logo.

Fans also seem eager to help. The entire Mudbath entourage is run

by volunteers like Tina Potter who works as the band’s webmaster, or

Gretchen Sturm who does merchandise and goes on puke patrol during

bus rides. Friend Georgia DeNaut flew down for the Hollywood show

from the Bay Area to help pass out fliers.

“Our goal is to have people really invested in not only the music,

but the band itself,” Bartlone said. “We want them to feel that sense

of excitement when they hear a Mudbath song on the radio.”

Mudbath does that, in part, by allowing fans to participate in the

lifestyle. Besides the bus rides, Mudbath makes themselves accessible

to fans, maintaining a friendly rapport while hanging out to greet

and chat after shows.

While newcomers work their way over to drummer Yvette Casali to

see what she put in her mohawk, friends gather around bassist Kym

Cienfuegos to congratulate her with flowers and pull a smile out of

the stoic metal-head.

“There’s no barriers and they’re very approachable,” said longtime

fan Tiffany Wilson, who enjoys the commandery of people going to

Mudbath shows. “We can be who we are freely, knowing that we’re all

part of the same group with some sort of honor code. It’s like the

village idiots, looking out for each other and helping to get back to

the left of right.”

* DAVE BROOKS covers City Hall. He can be reached at (714)

965-7173 or by e-mail at dave.brooks@latimes.com.