Sat. Nov. 10

The Humans are coming! The Humans are coming! The Humans are coming! If you're of a certain (youngish) age you're saying, "Wha?" and "Huh?" but if you grew up in the explosive Boston punk rock/new wave scene of the early '80s, you're going, "Wow, this is great I never thought this would happen again!" The Humans are Human Sexual response and they've booked a gig Saturday Nov. 10 at the House of Blues, just bumped up from the Paradise. All seven of 'em - four singers, three musicians, some still pursuing contemporary music (most notably guitarist Rich Gilbert) and most others not. JSInk spoke with singer Dini Lamot recently and we asked ...

JSInk: Well, whassup with this?

Dini: "We started working on a DVD with Jan Crocker a couple of years," Lamot said. (Crocker, a friend of ours too, was the leading Boston punk/new wave videographer of the era, and I remember chiding him and his small crew for hauling around bulky camera gear to record this stuff. Hey, put the cameras down and just dig the here and now, I would say. I was wrong.) "He shot a show at [long gone, lamented club] Streets in 1982. It took quite a while to finish, but this year we decided it was finished and ready and why not do a reunion? Why not do a live show? Everyone agreed. It's funny. It was booked at the Paradise and sold out within three or four days and so they suggested we move up to the House of Blues. It's so ironic.

What's on tap?

"We'll do both complete albums, 'Figure 14' and "In a Roman Mood,' plus a couple of covers and standards. Our last reunion show four years ago, we rehearsed three days and it sounded like we'd never broken up. We didn't sound sluggish. For this, I'm so thrilled and excited. I was really nervous at first, but I'm more and more excitred."

What do you hope to do?

Hopefully, to bring back the magic scene of Boston, that unbelievable period of time. It was such a magical time. The last reunion we did in Hudson, [NY, where Dini lives with his husband and HSR singer Windle Davis, running a B and B] a third of the audience was hardcore [older] fans and the rest were young kids in their 20s and 30s who danced throughout the set. They said to us, 'Where are you guys from?'

From another time and place!

It's strange. We have the same angst as we did in our 20-year-old bodies, but our bodies are now 60. [Not all, but some ...]. It was a little strange to look back at the video from the last show. It sounded great, but to look at myself, well, it was strange.

The sound?

So many reunion bands, they sound really slow and we have the same power. I'll be thrashing around as much as I used to. I've been tread-milling an hour a day and dieting like crazy.

What about the gay factor in the band? Not everyone being gay but some of you, and the sensibility itself, well before this was accepted by the bulk of the audience, to say nothing of punks.

If anyone asked us, we didn't deny it. We didn't pronounce we were gay, but we had no problmes with wig night and wearing my mother's old dress! On leaf night, we all made costumes out of leaves and sewed them on to jock straps and Casey's bra. [Casey Cameron is the lone female Human] and panties. La [Dini's brother, lead singer Larry Bangor] had poison oak leaves from his backyard. We looked down at La and said 'Oh my god!.' HIs legs were so swollen through his skintight glitter pants."

You guys were noted for your multiple part harmonies. Again, uncommon in the scene.

The Mamas and Papas harmonies! We weren't a dance band per se, but people danced to us. We were a Buzzcock-y band. It was a pretty unique sound. I'm really proud of [guitarist] Rich [Gilbert] has played with Frank Black, Jack White. He's the msot active of us now.

Here's a version of what I wrote for the Globe in 1981, when the Humans were exploding and then from a later reunion show.

Before the term "rock 'n' roll" was applied to a certain type of music, it was a slang expression for a certain popular bedroom activity. Throughout the years - from Elvis Presley to Elvis Costello - the two meanings have frequently intertwined. Traditionally, though, the sexual sentiments expressed through pop music are on the physical, surface level.

Human Sexual Response is not above or beyond that level of expression. But "What Does Sex Mean to Me?" - perhaps their quintessential song - takes it beyond pure emotion by posing a series of intriguing observations and questions that are left unanswered. In about five minutes singer Larry Bangor explores sex in relation to himself, his parents, couples he doesn't know, pop culture, procreation, and even to the Chinese ("Their cultural revolution has shown them / More important things to see to").

It's a long way from Chuck Berry's "Reelin' and Rockin' " or the Rolling Stones' "Satisfaction." "It leaves things up to the listener'sinterpretation," says bassist Chris Maclachian.

"We're examining sex from a realistic perspective," adds guitarist Rich Gilbert. "It probably makes people who are inhibited uncomfortable. It forces the issue."

Human Sexual Response takes what it does seriously. Still, they're wary of taking it all too seriously. "I see a lot of bands that take themselves too seriously," Gilbert says. Adds vocalist Casey Cameron: "Especially bands like us. There's a thin line."

With four vocalists, a guitarist, a drummer and a bassist, the Humans are an art-rock band that functions as an ensemble, not as a vehicle for any one member. With their strong harmony vocals, the Humans' put a heavy, near- theatrical emphasis on their lyrics and they've had to work to blend together effectively the vocal and instrumental parts. On their debut album, "Figure 14," they call the balance good, but, with the guitar not prominent enough, not ideal. And live? "It hasn't been much of a problem lately," says Cameron, "but we used to be described as four singers and a trio - which you can see physically. But conceptually, we function as a unit and it's very important to be seen that way."

As the Humans have no leader/follower dividing line in concert, in an interview they have no group spokesperson. At the Elliot Lounge, the band members sipped drinks, awaited questions, jumped into answers en masse, overlapped one another, argued, and often didn't come to a consensus. Which was fine by them. More than anything, the Humans use an interview to sort out conflicts and discuss their direction. And in the cacophony, Cameron more than once implored,"Try to speak one at a time."

The Humans' four vocalists - once an a cappella country & western act - decided to form a rock 'n' roll group in 1977. Gilbert joined after answering an ad which listed influences from Brian Eno to the Chipmunks to Tammy Wynette to the Jackson and MC 5. Gilbert was intrigued and thought, "Experimentation, humor, fun."

As the eclectic influences suggest, categorizing the Humans' sound is difficult. While early Roxy Music might be the best starting point - with its mixture of experimentation, affectation and accessibility - band members note, with amazement, comparisons to the Grateful Dead and Rush. Bangor describes performing one of their more somber songs, "Anne Frank Story," as "never totally serious, nor is it totally a joke - it's somewhere in between." Bangor's sentiment could pertain to the Humans' music in general; at its best, it is rich with undertones and contrast.

The Humans' best known song is probably "Jackie Onassis," which features the lead in: "I want to be Jackie Onassis / I want to wear a pair of dark sunglasses," and wondrously teeters between satire and glorification of both its subject and celebrity status in general. Any response from the Kennedys?

Three or four Humans jump in. "John-John comes to see us all the time in Providence!" Lamot takes the lead. "We've never talked to him, but I talked to his friends who were with him one night and they came up and said, You guys are great! You know my friend here - do you know who he is? John Kennedy!' "

"I said, You're kidding! Does he like us?' and the kid says He loves the band.' So I guess he loves Jackie O.' "

And from a reunion at the Paradise, New Year's Eve, 1988 ...

It takes a bit of gumption - and certainly a fair share of cash -- to undertake a major blast into the past. But that is what Human Sexual Response -- local new wave stalwarts of the early '80s, some of whom are now Zulus -- did at the Paradise Saturday night before a soldout, ecstatic crowd. And it was a generous set that proved the Humans were/are no transients of the old era, or cynics of the new. Their stuff -- including everything cool from their two albums, and at least one unprintable tune -- made as much sense Saturday as it did in '82, when the septet folded their art-rock/ left-field tent.

At least one lyric line pertained on New Year's Eve: "It's a time warp," sang Larry Bangor, during "Anne Frank' Story." And, as he said prior to the set, "It's not so much jumping back in character as it is jumping back in time. You can see connections that have been there all along. It's re-learning the songs and realizing how much I like 'em."

"I won't deny that at times it was kind of a headache," said guitarist Rich Gilbert, discussing the process of reuniting. The group rehearsed five times. "But I had this feeling that at showtime it was gonna be fine." And it was. Three of the Humans -- Bangor, Gilbert and drummer Malcolm Travis -- have coalesced into the more straight-ahead, hard-rocking Zulus, who release their Slash debut LP, "Down on the Floor" in February. Original Humans/Zulus' bassist Chris Maclachlan went to law school, passed the bar, became a lawyer and, also, joined the Country Bumpkins and Lazy Susan; background singer Casey Cameron got married, had a child, and became a technical writer; the other background singers, Dini Lamot and Windle Davis, moved to Key West and recently relocated near New York City. They formed a musical-theatrical group, the Other Glove Theater.

Hatchets were definitely buried Saturday. Brothers Lamot and Bangor shook hands backstage; Bangor asked "When did we not get along?" and Lamot answered, "For about two years. When I put that curse on you." They smiled.

Human Sexual Response always had a knack for blending pop-rock instincts and more far-reaching, progressive-rock arrangements. There was a camp current (or undercurrent) in the air -- with everyone celebrating "Jackie Onassis" (especially Cameron in her dark shades) and Motown, in "Cool Jerk," with every gold-glitter-sprayed singer shakin' all over and expressing sexual tension and joy with every spasm.

Paradise production manager Jon Rosbrook had been trying to put together a Humans reunion gig for more than a year. (Their only other reunion was Halloween '84 at Spit.) Saturday's set succeeded on all counts. The Zulus risked the identification with the past, and everyone risked the possibility of a lead, or dated, balloon. But the band rocked -- found the pop glory in "Andy Fell," "Guardian Angel" and "A Question of Temperature," and the delightful raw fringes of "Pound," "Marone Offering" and "Unba, Unba."

Tix: $25. Starts early, doors at 7.

"Jackie Onassis." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyqDnYBQsKw&feature=related

"Andy Fell" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rnve0tFfhmQ

"Dick and Jane" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2cH3uwVxBc 

15 Lansdowne St., 617-993-BLUE www.houseofblues.com