By Johnny Ray Huston

1, 2, 3 steps: Hey Willpower brings it to Yerba Buena Center for the Arts. Guardian photo by Mirissa Neff

Schwartz is fresh from the dentist's, where, midappointment, the tooth man, the hygienist, and he all started humming a Ciara hit. Things are like that with him – if he's in a good mood, he'll hum and sing his way through the day. "But I guess the one that is really pulling my heartstrings the most right now is [Gwen Stefani's] 'Holla Back,' " he says. "I like the absurdity of the lyrics juxtaposed with the emotional intensity of the chorus synthesizers, the orchestral synthesizers. It seems like it almost could have been an emo kind of thing, but it's not at all, and I like that about it. It's unpredictable."

The poop on pop

It's fun talking pop with Will Schwartz, but not as fun as listening to and seeing Hey Willpower, the project that's allowed him to come out about his true love for the idiom.

The night after our car ride, Schwartz is onstage at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts' latest opening night, and people on the second floor are peering over the balcony to see who has turned the museum's lower level into an impromptu dance floor. As Tomo oversees keyboard and beat-making duties, Schwartz and dancers Erin Rush and Justin Kelly – outfitted in color-coordinated sleeveless tops – lead the crowd through their choreographed moves for "On the Floor (Uh Uh Uh)," which end with suggestive hip thrusts. A guy who probably had never even heard of the group before jumps toward the stage and shows off what he's learned. "Yeah, you got it!" Schwartz says with a laugh.

Hey Willpower bust out all the hits-to-be, from the slinky striptease "Double Fantasy II," with its rhyming come-ons ("You said you needed physical therapy / Keep it in mind when you give me the extra key") to the "back it up onto me"-isms of the slicker 'tease "Too Hot," which, right down to its rock-the-bells flourish, could form a higher-register trinity with Michael Jackson's "Rock with You" and Justin Timberlake's "Rock Your Body." Twenty-some minutes later, as the set draws to a close, what had been a subdued art gathering now feels like a party.

"It's a completely different response from Imperial Teen shows," Schwartz had said the day earlier, mentioning the band he's known for – a group that has about all the siss-boom-bah! personality that's allowed of a rock four-piece – while discussing the challenge of confronting audiences with straight-up pop. "Sometimes it's just a crazy response, with people screaming like at old-time pop shows. It feels really exciting, like people are responding without thinking too much."

Dyed-in-the-cardigan indie fans aren't always willing to drop the self-consciousness. "I remember we opened for the Decemberists," Schwartz says. "That crowd just stood there like, 'What?!?' Someone – an indie-label person – once said, 'I like your music, but how come your lyrics aren't more like the Postal Service?' My response is that I tried that. The lyrics for these songs are autobiographical, but they mirror popular music."

Because Hey Willpower have yet to release any singles or an album, Schwartz is still at a crossroads. The songs he and Tomo have written may have potential mass appeal, but the recordings they've done thus far – with New York producer 1L – might be a few expensive bells and whistles short of Top 40 status. As Schwartz sings on "Double Fantasy II," he's not on "the radio with some pedigree," but that doesn't mean he doesn't carry some fantasies of working with Dr. Dre and Jazze Pha.

Not every rockist will understand that dream. I ask him if he runs into prejudice from people who think R. Kelly is smelly. "Definitely. There's this perception that [indie or rock] music is important and [R&B and pop] is just to pacify the culture. But I want to say to [indie] people, R&B is way more popular than your music, and maybe that needs to be examined – and maybe it's a lot more heartfelt than you think. I believe it is.

"Song like 'Kiss' and 'Holla Back' and 'Work It' – these songs make me cry."

Together forever

I'm friends with Schwartz, and one of the things I admire most about him is his openheartedness – that and a laugh that happens so easily and often it could fool me into thinking I'm ready for stand-up.

After he spent his wonder years in New Jersey, Schwartz and his family relocated westward to a Slums of Beverly Hills address. In high school, a theater classmate named Monica Lewinsky developed a crush on him, leading to his mother's great quip, "She couldn't have Will, so she went after Bill."

In fact, at the height of Cigargate, Schwartz inadvertently experienced mass-media saturation when clips from a high school musical he and Lewinsky were in together were broadcast on everything from tabloid TV to Nightline.

Schwartz has a drama major's flair for song and dance, and one of the pleasures of Hey Willpower is that it allows those impulses freer reign. They've always been there – I remember walking down Mission Street with him and a handsome guy named Jonathan five or so years ago, as Schwartz and I took turns dropping to one knee and crooning improvised boy-band lyrics. "I Want It That Way" was at its peak, and on nights out karaoke-ing at the Mint, he'd try everything from Off the Wall-era Michael to Billie Holiday's "Good Morning Heartache."

Friendship likewise provides the power in Hey Willpower. "We met through my friend and roommate Corrina," Schwartz says when asked about Tomo and the group's genesis. "I had my keyboard set up in my other roommate's room. I started playing it, and Tomo came over and was playing a little something on the bottom keys. I said, 'Oh, do you wanna play sometime?' And we did."

The group's dance element also came about spontaneously. "I was playing songs for my friends Signe and Dori," Schwartz says, "and I think Dori just got up there and said, 'I should dance!' I was like, 'Hell, yeah!' So we made up routines for a couple of songs." The original dancers have moved on, and at this point some of the moves have names. "There's the Typewriter and one like this [he holds his palms up by his head] called the Waitress," he says with a laugh. "I like coming up with moves that aren't typical dance pop moves."

Hey Willpower's pop is sprinkled with a different brand of commercial references than the bling usually found on the Top 40. "On the Floor (Uh Uh Uh)" rhymes Wonka with Tonka, going on to mention Chips Ahoy! and adding a bedroom twist to 28 Days Later. During "Magic Window," Schwartz follows in the footsteps of TLC's T-Boz in referencing Krispy Kremes, but whereas she says there's nothing like the sweet fried delights on TLC's "Hands Up," he dares to claim he's better than one.

"I like to bring up commercial products just as pop commentary," he explains. "But I don't know if that really resonates, so I wanted to really pile it on – go all the way and do some product placements."

Very Spielberg. "Thank you."

Will he be following in Jessica Simpson's footsteps and endorsing body butter? "Body butter? That's dirty."

So are Hey Willpower's songs, but not in a crass way. Early traces can be found in Schwartz's songs on the most recent Imperial Teen album, On (Merge, 2002), but lyrically, with Hey Willpower, he's given himself over to uninhibited sex and unabashed romanticism. Its title a tribute to another recent fave, Kelis and Andre 3000's "Millionaire," "Hundredaire" chastises a love for sending mixed messages, while layering heys that sound like "I Wanna Be Your Lover"-era Prince over a melody that recalls the Cure's "Close to Me."

Do lyrics about being "more than just a piece of ass" mean someone is rocking Schwartz's world? "What can I say?" he jokes. "I get a lot of play."

For all the Justified-like talk on these songs, it's unlikely Timberlake would croon, "I think it's time to burn the sage" (as Schwartz does on "Hundredaire"), or pledge to "be there from then to Ramadan" (as Shwartz does on "Magic Window"). According to Schwartz, there's a story behind the latter song. "The title comes from this conversation I overheard when I was little between my mom and sister," he says. "They were talking about a cousin who had gotten the brand of being slutty. They started calling her Magic Window. You have to imagine it with a New Jersey accent – 'Maaajik Windowww.' " In the song's scenario, Schwartz takes on the Magic Window role, promising to open up peepshow-style to reveal whatever fantasy is desired.

Open doors?

Hey Willpower have a track on the new compilation Children's Music for Adults (Daft Alliance) and plan to release an EP in July, but their place on the large musical landscape is still a bit uncertain. In concert, they've had their best responses playing outside of rock-club contexts at art spaces, or opening for groups like Le Tigre and Gravy Train!!!!, though there's more songcraft to Hey Willpower's music. "Their crowds are really open, ready to dance," Schwartz says. "They aren't only white; there's more people of color, so the experience doesn't feel so homogenized. That gets to me with indie rock – how the crowds are so segregated."

As we watched the depressing election-night responses last November, Schwartz wondered what kind of effect another Bush term would have on dance pop. While his music isn't overtly political, he does think the moment is right for people to share some joy whenever they can. "These are hard times, and it's good to, not get unconscious, but just let it out," he says. "My friend was saying something interesting about the relationship between punk rock and dance music – with groups like Gang of Four, spaces were created that weren't so aggro, like queer spaces."

He's sure some indie rockers wonder, " 'If you're going to do dance pop that references R&B or mainstream music, why don't you punk it up or edge it up?' But I'm trying to really do it full-on and not stand in the corner smirkin' about it, all 'Aren't I cute.' What I'm trying to do is live it out."

Hey Willpower play Sat/30, 10 p.m., Hemlock Tavern, 1131 Polk, S.F. $8. (415) 923-0923, www.willpowermusic.com.