ORBIT: CIRCLING FOR SONGS

"I think we'll have some trouble overseas, when we go," says Buckley, waiting outside T.T. the Bear's just before a recent performance. "But over here we don't have much confusion."

That eyes-wide-open ingenuousness may have been just the thing to attract all of the record labels that swarmed through Boston recently hoping to sign the year-and-a-half-old band. Comprising former members of Pipes and Miranda Warning, Orbit were recording in Buckley's basement just two weeks after forming, making a single called "Motorama," and soon after contributing a second song, "Purge," to a local compilation called Soon.At the release party for the compilation, they were noticed by a record label, and once word got out they had offers from all sides. The winner, when the dust had cleared, was A&M Records - which, according to Buckley, knows exactly what it's getting: an unusual combination of moody rock and eccentric guitar styles. "If you had a pendulum swinging back and forth and one side hit Dick Dale in the ass and the other hit Keith Moon, maybe we'd fall in the middle."

That may be an ultimate goal - to mix the guitar bombast of the Who with the campy twang of surf - but Orbit haven't quite gotten there yet. Their debut EP, La Mano, just out on Buckley's Lunch label, is an often unfocused, somewhat repetitive set that seems more like a mix of Metallica and Live. To judge from La Mano, Orbit have a compulsive fascination with the human body; during the course of five songs flesh is poked through and "stripped bare," body parts are washed, cut, and broken, asses are shaken and shaped, skin is shed. A military-style drum tattoo serves as the backbone for "Come Inside," "Purge," and "Colored Water"; Lowe's vocals range from a staccato scream to a whispered, muddy croon.

Orbit start off by adopting the familiar alterna-rock stance of wild dynamics: long guitar build-ups that escalate into psychedelic thrash ("Purge"), or headbanging grooves that suddenly drop off into nothing ("Made of Wood"). They do better when they're not trying so hard to crack heads open with loud guitars and speed-demon riffs. "Break" begins with a mellow electric jangle; it keeps the overemoting in check by emphasizing melody and not guitar prowess. The lyrics remain true to form - loner narrator swears he's gonna institute changes for "you" - but by keeping the tone down Orbit establish an Auteurs-like charm with understated musical elegance. Unfortunately, Lowe's voice still coats the whole thing with Mick Jagger-esque yelping. "Colored Water," the only other tune that essays a menacing subtlety to go with the melodic interplay of guitar and low-mixed vocals, is almost too short to register, clocking in at just over two minutes.

Orbit are a band ready to please; they're savvy enough from past experience to take a break when they need to, and their live act - as they proved at T.T's - is both self-effacing and loudly enthusiastic. But now, submerged in the big leagues, they're going to need something more than ingenuousness to keep them afloat. Something like a killer song. And La Mano, alas, just doesn't have it.

- Randee Dawn Cohen