Over drinks in a Brooklyn bar, the Fleshtones agree they aren't offended by that kind of reaction. With an average of about four years between albums, they're used to it. "If that's what they're saying in New York, well, we haven't played there lately," explains drummer Bill Milhizer. "When we play New York, we play Hoboken, New Jersey. But we've gigged all over the U.S. and Canada. And we're probably going to Spain."

Speaking of Spain, that nation's leading garage-rock label, Imposible, will be releasing the Fleshtones' The Angry Years. This album consists of aborted demos recorded for the IRS label from 1984 to 1986. (It's too bad Willie Nelson beat them to the title The IRS Sessions.)

Almost simultaneously, a brand new album is awaiting release. R.E.M.'s Peter Buck twirled the knobs on the tentatively titled Forever Fleshtones. Old associate Gordon Spaeth plays sax on it, but there's "not a lot of horns on this one," confides singer Peter Zaremba. Also, he says, no instrumentals and no covers. However, lots of varied tempos and textures are promised, by way of Buck.

"Buck realized that we've been making records longer than he has," says guitarist Keith Streng. "But he's got such a vast vocabulary of rock'n'roll. He's the best producer we've ever worked with, bar none." Even better than the legendary Marty Thau, who worked with the New York Dolls and the Modern Lovers? "Marty Thau was totally confusing to us as a producer," explains Streng. Those Thau produced earliest Fleshtones sessions, which were released as the ROIR cassette-only Blast Off album, are now out on CD.

"That can't be from the master tapes," point out Zaremba.

"Those were destroyed in a fire," notes Streng.

"And it sounds awful," Zaremba adds. "I told the guy who put that out I'd get him the original artwork for the album." Since that didn't happen, I suppose this can be taken as a caveat to newer fans who spot the CD sporting photos of the band's current lineup (there's also a version around with the ROIR cassette artwork).

As far as the current lineup goes, the Fleshtones want everybody to know that they're no longer in the Bass- Player-of-the-Month Club. Kenny Fox is staying put. "I Actually learned to play the bass from listening to Fleshtones records," reveals Fox. So they hired him because he knew all the songs?

"No," denies Zaremba, "we hired him because he's got more teen appeal and he takes up less space in our van than other bass players."

Things finally seem ready to fall into place for the Fleshtones. New releases abound, a permanent bassist is secured, and they've even toured with their own go-go girls. Yet one thing still bothers the band. That would be their rep as a lightweight party band. Go-go girls not withstanding, nitpickers can't see beyond the dancing bodies, on the stage and in the audience. Zaremba: "One reviewer wrote that a show of ours was terrific 'but leave your mind at home.'"

That critic must not have heard the Fleshtones' last release, Powerstance (previously available as an import, now a domestic from Naked Language). "Armed and Dangerous" crawls with anxiety and doubts, while the sublime "I'm Still Thirsty" is about a wasted life. In "Let It Rip," Zaremba pushes the berserk lyric to its logical conclusion - "If you have problems/Make them work for you." This is a party band??

All of this is fuelled by the band's sleekest (but not slick) playing to date. Streng, in particular, cuts through the mix with barbed-wire fretwork. Having spent a couple of summers ago with his own combo, the Full Time Men, Streng is ready to devote all of his energy to the 'Tones; though he will, no doubt, be focusing some of his attention on the family he's starting and his new homestead in Brooklyn (across the street from this bar, in fact).

With all their experience and longevity, why can't the Fleshtones find a larger audience? Why does "still being around" and commitment to their music work against them? Why is the music-listening public baffled by this unadorned, unaffected rock'n'roll band? "People want artifice," declares Milhizer. "I was at a club and some new band that's supposed to be great was playing. But they were just another Pearl Jam soundalike."

Zaremba picks up the point: "They can relate better to a band with artifice than they can to a band with none, like us."