Beat of the Bay

Charlie’s Kitchen in Harvard Square isn’t the tamest scene. Juicy burgers and free-flowing beer contribute to a rowdy atmosphere. However, most nights at Charlie’s are probably not as chaotic as the time that Viva Viva played there live. In the middle of the set, the ceiling started falling apart. Stray electric wires popped out of the cracks, and the band was quickly asked to shut down the show. “We may or may not have broken things,” lead singer Vicini says slyly. “I figure people were just rocking too hard.”

Harvard Square, meet Viva Viva, a Boston rock band through and through. Though you hear fewer and fewer musicians these days professing their allegiance to the seemingly outdated genre, the members of Viva Viva proudly wear a rock 'n' roll ethos on their sleeves. There’s no pretense about it: Viva Viva revel in stomping grooves, gritty guitars, sweaty bars and basement shows.

They’re all about Boston pride, too. Most of the band members are from the area; two of them went to the Berklee School of Music. The band’s origins can be found in an apartment in Jamaica Plain, where Vicini and guitarist Chris Warren moved in together in 2005. They were both in bands at the time that were fueled by “tons of angst and distortion,” according to Warren, and found a kindred spirit between them that had been missing from their previous projects.

“I used to write my songs in one room, and he used to write his songs in another. One day, we were just like, ‘let’s meet up in the middle room,’” Warren says. The two clicked as friends and musicians, even to the detriment of previous relationships—Warren called in sick for a show with his own band in order to see Vicini play a gig.

Viva Viva formed shortly thereafter, playing their first gig at the Middle East. They soon dove onto the local circuit, playing at T.T. the Bear’s, Great Scott, and the Paradise Rock Club, to name a few. They even made a stop at Harvard, headlining the Mayfair Festival in the Square. “That was amazing,” says keyboardist Fumika Yamazaki-Burdett. “We love to come into Harvard.”

Among their constant gigging, the band gained a reputation for their raucous showmanship. When asked about performance details, the band members exchange knowing smiles and stay tight-lipped, only divulging that “there may have been some fights.” Their work ethic paid off, though; in 2011, they were named Best Rock Band at the Boston Music Awards.

Viva Viva’s music is hard-nosed and propulsive. “We’re not a retro band—it’s just good music, I’d like to think,” Vicini says. “We’re just doing what we like to hear.” Vicini grew up on the Kinks, the Velvet Underground, and of course, the Rolling Stones; the band’s devotion to the latter is made apparent by their musical viciousness and blues sensibilities, as well as their original song title “Sympathy for the Devil’s Little Helper.” That song is built on an insistent three-note guitar lick, while Warren and Vicini harmonize in the manner that Jagger and Richards did forty years ago.

“Dead in Yr Tracks,” the band’s latest music video, is a near perfect representation of the band’s taste and style. A woman with a throwback floral print jacket grooves to the song on a vinyl player while Warren roams the Boston T and plays a bluesy riff on the downtown streets. Smoking, drinking, and dancing abound in a dark, jam-packed nightclub.

Nowadays, it seems that people are dancing and drinking more to hip-hop, pop, and dance music. The band acknowledges that rock as a genre is going through a tough period and that gimmicky showmanship has replaced craft. Still, Vicini admires the few rock bands who keep churning away, like the Black Keys or the Arctic Monkeys: “it’s better than hearing Limp Bizkit on the radio.”

Vicini and company hope to join those bands on the national stage in representing a genre that is still very much alive and kicking. The band recently played at the Boston Calling music festival and is currently working on its second album, which is set to come out next year. Still, they make a point to always acknowledge their rowdy Boston beginnings. “When I was 13, I would drop off my tape with the bartender at the Middle East,” Vicini says. “Now, it’s our home.”

—Staff writer Andrew R. Chow can be reached at Andrew.chow@thecrimson.com.