Sharpened Knives

AUSTIN, Texas -- If you had occasion to invite a British rock band around for a spot of tea and you wanted one your mother would approve of, the Young Knives would be that band.

With their proper manners, cheeky demeanor, and thrift-shop suits, the trio -- whose prickly post-punk is already a hit in the UK but has yet to catch fire on this side of the pond -- look like beleaguered clock-punchers you might have seen in the background of the British version of "The Office," or frazzled real-life accountants.

Or, as their producer Andy Gill puts it, "country bankers."

"It's more sort of geography teacher than it is banker, though, isn't it?" asks singer-guitarist Henry Dartnall , gesturing at the wide, ghastly patterned ties, print Oxfords, and secondhand blazers that he, bassist brother Thomas, and drummer Oliver Askew sport not only for a lunchtime interview but their gigs as well.

These threads have caused some to label the band nerdy, which is fine by them. "It's not like being in school and someone saying you're a nerd and getting your head kicked in. It's like you're a nerd but you're in a rock 'n' roll band, which is obviously going to be cool," says Henry, pretending to get hot under the collar. "Where's your rock 'n' roll band, name-caller? Sticks and stones and all that . . . but look at me: I'm rocking out, the girls love it, the guys dig it, everyone's screaming for more, and I'm a hero!"

Just don't get too near the geeky duds right now, warns Askew, or you will get a whiff of the distinct fragrance of rock 'n' roll. "It's quite dirty; you don't want to get close to it."

The trio came by their eau de rock as everyone else in Austin did this week, dashing around madly to play and see other bands. The Young Knives have now arrived to the relative tranquility of the Texas Picnic Company and Bakery, around the corner from bustling 6th Street, for a quick bite after playing what they have dubbed "the most shambolic gig" of their frenetic experience at the South by Southwest music conference and festival. The band will log eight or nine shows over the course of the five-day festival. No one is sure of the exact figure.

"All the rubbish bins were filled up out back, and because the roads are closed, the trash-collecting people aren't [coming in], so there's this rotten food," begins Thomas, with older brother Henry finishing, "So when you're singing and you have to breathe in deep, you get that horrible full depth of aroma.

"It's awesome," he deadpans. "But then again it's a bit of fun -- that's what it's all about."

It may not be the most pleasant image, but it dovetails nicely with the pointed guitars, miffed yowls, and attack rhythms of the band's first US release, "Voices of Animals and Men." It is the album the Young Knives have come to South by Southwest and the United States to promote. The band plays Harpers Ferry tonight.

What gives the Knives a sharper edge in the continuing post-punk revival is what they're saying with all those dissonant vocals and spiky guitars. Songs like "Here Comes the Rumor Mill" and "She's Attracted To" don't rage against the big machine but the little ones we all deal with, like office gossips and a girlfriend's parents.

"Underneath that polite exterior, there's a cruel intelligence going on," says "Voices" producer Gill, who, as guitarist for the pioneering Gang of Four, is a clear influence.

"The stories are just settings for a thing you want to describe," says Henry about how the band conjures its tales of flaky dreamers and nine-to-fivers wistful for the weekend.

For these former members of the cubicle class, smelly gigs in Austin alleys are a dream come true, even if they are a bit of a demotion from the stages the Young Knives play in their home country. The trio formed the band in high school, took a break for college, and then gigged and either self-released or made deals with indies for singles and EPs before being picked up in the UK by Transgressive Records. Released last August, "Voices" spawned four top 40 singles in the UK. The group now commands audiences three times the capacity of Harpers Ferry.

The band's success pleased the members' skeptical parents, who came to a gig last year at the famed Astoria club in London, which holds about 2,000 people.

"I don't think they quite realized that we're doing quite well," says Thomas, who also goes by the name "House of Lords" because he frequently vetoes the good decisions his brother and Askew make. "They'd seen us in some smaller places, and now they're a bit more enthusiastic. I think my dad thought, 'Well, maybe they can make some money.' "

"So," Henry adds, "he suddenly became slightly happier than he has been for the last two years."

They're not exactly rolling in dough, British or otherwise, just yet but are pleased with their success. Though they already have their next album written, they have no master plan for "breaking" America.

"We're not going to try all that hard," says Henry with a laugh. "We're going to say, 'If you don't want it, then you're the losers.' "

Askew chimes in, "Oh, that tactic! We're going to play hard to get."

But even with their Midlands accents and bleak humor, Gill thinks there's nothing inaccessible about the band. "In a way it seems to be from such a little microcosm," he says. "They're so bright and clever, they know what they look like, and they invite you to be part of their world and understand all the subject matter that interests them. In a way it's very specific, but it's also universal. Like where the song is talking about meeting his girlfriend's parents and how it all went horribly wrong? Everybody relates to that."

The Young Knives play Harpers Ferry tonight at 8. Tickets are $8. Call 800-594-8499 or go to harpersferryboston.com.