These Ramoniacs have got it covered

Three of the four are married with kids. Two are computer geeks. One's an ER doctor. One coaches youth hockey. And they're all maniacally devoted to the loud, fast, incorrigible music of the late, lamented Ramones. They're Ramoniacs.

Seriously, they're the Ramoniacs, a cover band specializing in the quintessentially bratty music of punk's founding fathers. Like their namesakes, Bobby, Danny, Andy, and Tommy Ramoniac are not actually brothers. They've only known each other a year or so. Yet their lives have been reinvigorated by the coiled, melodic energy of their favorite band. They play the Abbey Lounge in Somerville tomorrow.

''My wife thinks I'm nuts," says Danny Ramoniac, a.k.a. Daniel DeLay, software developer and guitarist. ''She can't believe her husband is acting like such a kid."

The Ramoniacs have played about 15 gigs since forming a year ago, drawing rambunctious crowds at venues from the Middle East to Northampton's Pearl Street and Manchester, N.H.'s Uptown Tavern, where they recently recorded a live album.

Their children (DeLay and drummer Tom Woundy each have one; singer Bob Martel has three) were at the band's second gig last summer, in Chelmsford. DeLay's 4-year-old son is now a big fan. ''We're the 'Hey! Ho!' guys," DeLay jokes.

But for its members, the band is no mere gimmick. They are deeply invested in their roles (and they do consider them roles). Martel, a veteran Boston musician and 2003 Bruins ''Fan of the Year" (he's the youth hockey coach -- and a project manager), took his wife to a Ramones show on their first date. Between that gig and their affinity for Mexican food, ''I knew I was in love," he says. ''We've been together for 20 years."

DeLay is a classically trained former heavy-metal shredder who now rarely strays from the F, G, and A chords. He stands in for Johnny Ramone, the downstroke-only stalwart who famously disdained guitar solos.

''I was riveted by these guys," says DeLay. ''They didn't have many skills. They were four misfits, true punks, who made this incredible career out of nothing."

In the absence of the real Ramones -- singer Joey died of lymphoma in 2001, followed by bassist Dee Dee (overdose) in 2002 and Johnny (prostate cancer) in 2004 -- a dozen or more cover bands have sprung up everywhere from the band's native New York to Salt Lake City, Tallahassee, and the Netherlands.

The Ramoniacs first came to life at a May 2005 Worcester appearance by Marky Ramone, the longstanding on-again, off-again Ramones drummer. DeLay, who had recently moved east with his wife and son from his native Southern California, handed out fliers in search of fellow Ramones fans interested in starting a tribute band. Woundy, a software programmer and veteran of several Ramones-influenced groups, took one.

DeLay had also placed an ad on Craigslist. Martel, who had recently placed his own ads proposing a Ramones tribute band, quickly responded. They became a foursome with the addition of Andy Koslow, a doctor at Caritas St. Elizabeth's Medical Center in Brighton, who also saw the ad. Koslow has moonlighted in an array of bands, including one that played 25-minute jams and another that specializes in traditional Russian music.

''Mine was not a punk upbringing," says Koslow. ''I was into all kinds of out-there stuff. I started seeing the Ramones in 1989. [Their debut] was one of the only real punk albums I owned."

Yet he has thrown himself into the Ramoniacs with as much zeal as his bandmates. They wouldn't be a Ramones tribute without donning the classic uniform -- black Perfecto-style biker jackets, ripped jeans and T-shirts, canvas sneakers.

These days Martel and DeLay are working on their hair, growing it out to match the Ramones' trademark shoulder-length mops. Outside a Guitar Center on a recent Saturday, the breeze keeps blowing thick strands into Martel's mouth.

With grown-up jobs and family obligations, the Ramoniacs say they might not be playing music at all anymore if it weren't for this band.

''Realistically, we're working on time that doesn't exist," says Woundy. ''But we're having a ball."

Unlike many bands that write original songs, the Ramoniacs are almost guaranteed a crowd, from the middle-aged faithful to generations of pop-punk greenhorns who never got to see the real thing. And as the music of the Ramones finds new ears -- thanks to the testimony of superstars such as Pearl Jam and Green Day and soundtracks such as ''Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius" and ''School of Rock" -- it's up to bands like the Ramoniacs to sustain the legacy.

''Call us lazy," says Martel. ''It's nice to have a built-in audience."