By Kimberly Chun

YOU'D THINK WITH a name like the Eddie Haskells, this Bay Area punk band would never have a reason to stop cracking wise. But the group had to sober up recently when they lost their lead guitarist, Ron Apple, 36, to a heroin overdose early in the morning of Jan. 10.

The band were still in mourning shortly after a memorial Jan. 30, Eddie Haskells founder and rhythm guitarist Rich Mejia, a.k.a. Filthy Rich, 31, told me. The Eddie Haskells had just raked in a set of positive reviews for their five-song 2003 EP and had been offered a deal for a full-length on Super Speedway Records, but it didn't seem right to carry on without Apple.

"For the past month the band has been talking about that, and we're still grieving, where it goes back and forth, and we'll say one week we want to do it, but then we don't want to do it, because it's too hard to move on without Ron," Mejia said from his Oakland digs.

Mejia had only known Apple, who lived in San Francisco, for a year – the lead guitarist answered an ad on Craigslist after the departure of Mikey Porter.

"We got Ron and fell in love with him – he was amazing," Mejia explained. "He had style compared to the other people I was trying out, just the way he moved when he played guitar, and he was a really good lead guitar player."

Recently Mejia decided to post on Craigslist once more and began to try out guitarists again. They're planning to record in two months, but, Mejia said, "I never lost a friend before, and it's really tough."

Got your back In another part of town and a generation away, the Boom Boom Room recently lost its well-loved "backdoor man" J.J., née James Joseph, Jan. 15, to old age (he was 79). A Fillmore Street fixture from way back, when the Boom Boom was called Jack's Bar, Joseph had worked at the club since 1997, guarding the exit near the rest rooms, until a series of strokes two years ago kept him from his duties, owner Alex Andreas told me.

The WWII Army veteran worked for the federal government until he retired in 1988, and since then he could always be found at the Boom Boom Room. "He was the last of his kind on Fillmore Street, a kind that's now no longer around," Andreas said. "He had a position of responsibility, and he was watching our back every night of the week. J.J. was the heart and soul of the Boom Boom Room, in a sense."

More of the club's heart and soul than John Lee Hooker himself, whose name blazed on the Boom Boom sign since its opening till his death?

"People always mistook J.J. for John Lee Hooker," Andreas said. "He wore a stingy brim, a short-brimmed hat, and overcoat, and he had similar features as John Lee Hooker. People would ask him if they could take a picture of themselves on his lap, and they'd ask, 'Are you John Lee Hooker.' " If you were cute and had nice legs, word has it he'd reply, "Sure, baby." Amos Brown gave Joseph's eulogy at his memorial at Bryant Mortuary Jan. 27.

Independent's day Ah, Divis's beloved big black box is back. Old-schoolies and longtime scenesters can stop lamenting the days when they could cruise over to the Kennel Club to watch very early Opal/Mazzy Star trying out their new vocalist Hope Sandoval, or bust a move – and an eardrum – to the blare of early Boredoms and Caroliner Rainbow. Newer-schoolers and hip-hop hepcats can quit moaning over the absence of the Justice League and the era when you could catch DJ Spooky, Money Mark, De La Soul, and Digital Underground at the space.

Now at last there's a successor to all those venerable venues, which include the '80s alternative rock box VIS Club and the '70s jazz joint Half Note. The Independent is the newest kid at the 628 Divisadero space, reports the Bay Guardian's Jonathan Zwickel. Fittingly the venue is about ready to throw open the doors for its first show, with independent stalwarts I Am Spoonbender – as part of S.F. indie-rock hoedown Noise Pop – Feb. 26.

"The place has a really diverse history," co-owner Allen Scott told Zwickel, "and San Francisco has diverse people and tastes. We're going to reflect that in the format by keeping it vague – rock, funk, hip-hop, bluegrass, some comedy." The primary talent buyer for the club through Berkeley's Another Planet, Scott is joining forces with co-owners John Larner of TicketWeb, production guru Ryan Cox, and Michael O'Connor, the man largely responsible for the Justice League's success throughout the '90s. "The Justice League was crowded and hot, but it always had awesome energy," Scott said. "We're going to improve where we need to but make sure we keep that same energy." The team has overhauled the club, expanding rest room and backstage facilities and massively upgrading the sound and light system, which, Scott said, is "the best in the city, besides the Fillmore." True to the venue's new name, the owners promise to keep an eye on the edge and showcase up-and-coming artists.

Shinny happy people Shins fans were wearing their hearts on their sleeves at the band's Feb. 4 show at the Fillmore. The band was feeling the pure, untrammeled affection, so much so that "love was coming up from the gutter," as keyboardist Marty Crandall rambled. The Portland, Ore.-Albuquerque, N.M., band got off to a lethargic, even sloppy, start – when one song began with a honk of unintentional noise, Crandall blurted, "Did you hear that? That's new shit." Nonetheless certain enamored members of the audience didn't give a damn what the Shins were playing – they just wanted to pelt Crandall with chocolate miniatures and Sweethearts. Crandall responded by playing the loosey-goosey shoot-from-the-hipster to James Mercer's more reserved frontperson, expressing his appreciation for the audience by throwing handfuls of candy into the crowd. When a Sweetheart reading "Be My Valentine" got tossed back onstage, he had to read it out loud and take an audience poll.

"Should I eat it?" he flirtatiously asked.

"Yes!" roared the crowd.

"It's wet though," he said, smelling it, licking it, coyly glancing at the crowd and then placing it on his keyboard. We all know who his real valentine is – girlfriend and third-place finalist on America's Next Top Model Elyse Sewell – but you can imagine a few hopefuls out there wishing they were that sweetheart.