Superlatives: The bedroom studio creation most likely to rock your rainbow-striped tube socks off

Clubs: Woodshop, athletic supporter cleanup duty

Quote: "This music makes me feel like I just threw up on the fucking merry-go-round." – Dan Brubaker on a random jukebox selection

How can such smart fellas make such lovably dumb rock? On small, boxy computers, yet?

"The entire band is a product of the UC system," says guitarist Eric Murray, a.k.a. Stiff Digits (San Francisco, Scorpio), over pints at the Hemlock Tavern, describing the tangled web of Cal and UC Santa Cruz connections that gave birth to the bedroom studio project run amok called Boyjazz.

"We're all too educated," laughs drummer Aaron Levin, alias Supertouch (Berkeley, Pisces), who snagged a philosophy degree at UC Berkeley and now holds down an I.T. job.

"We all got our degrees so we could pour beer on one another," guitarist "Masculine" Dan Brubaker (Oakland, "a Libra y'all") adds morosely.

But that's the sordid, slightly soiled, manly beauty of Boyjazz. Their recent debut, In the City Tonight (Frenetic), pulses with good, dirty rock 'n' roll fun, as gutter-punk riffs rub uglies with glam-rock licks, and blatant and bedraggled AC/DC rip-offs stagger boozily alongside a jet-trash cotillion of Priest-Sabbath-KISS-Sweet-Stooges castoffs. The album's queso-filled drum-machine beats add a bracing, inhuman, mechanistic quality to the Iggy-like screeches of vocalist Adam Hobbs, otherwise known as Sexmouth (Hollywood, Sagittarius), who's as likely to rant about heat and streets as he is to deliver over-the-top, tongue-in-lobotomy lyrics like "You down a can of courage / Join me in cage.... Push aside your bravery / So I can see you on your knees." ("You + Me = Fight").

Chalk it up to years of book-learning, but math – though not math rock – often creeps into Hobbs's songwriting, according to the members of Boyjazz, which includes bassist Alex Pauley (Hollywood, Leo). It's an idiom that emphasizes the id, Brubaker quips. "There's a lot of play-by-numbers, for sure."

"If you analyze Boyjazz lyrics, it's a lot of 'Learning with Boyjazz,' " Murray explains. "It's rudimentary mathematics."

The Boys also like to get their theatrical drag on – check the heavy karate getups at a recent CD-release party at Cafe du Nord (the concept was "ass-kicking," Murray says) and Hobbs's penchant for stuffing socks in his shorts and then letting it all hang out. And he's swung the other way, simply replicating gynecological poses from Hustler. Boyjazz's guy rock likes to finger all your gross-out buttons, even as it floats addictive ditties like "Potfinger."

"It's somewhat masculine," Murray says. "Put it this way: if you come to one of our shows, it's not going smell like we're burning sage and smoking weed in the back. It's going to smell like the inseam of my work jeans."

Yum. Though Boyjazz began as Levin and Hobbs's home recording project, with a name culled from the online Emo Band Name Generator, the group recently began recording its next album as a real band, with perhaps even a genuine producer like Tim Green in the works. Anything to spread their rock 'n' roll disease, whether it involves stinky fingers or sticky inseams.

"I just want the audience to like the music, despite themselves," Levin says. (Chun)

Boyjazz play Oct. 30, Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, S.F. Call for time and price. (415) 923-0923.

For more information on Boyjazz, go to www.boyjazz.com.