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An earlier and less rewarding experience in the highly competitive atmosphere of the Berklee College of Music (the reason he moved from Maryland to Massachusetts) had soured him. "I just hated a lot of it and realized that there were probably three million other guitar players who were a lot better than me. I thought, ‘Maybe I should start singing again,’ because it was the only thing I was having fun with at the time." So he ditched Berklee, started writing songs on his own, and took his music underground to the subways and its captive commuter audience. He also began working with a vocal coach. "When I left Berklee, I knew that I had to practice performing in front of people and getting comfortable with that. I knew that if I only played songs while sitting in my room, I was letting down what it was all about. The subway was an awesome place to do it. It’s a real challenge relying on nothing but your guitar and voice to break through people’s walls. It’s incredible and it just fills you up." He still makes the occasional pilgrimage to the subways and Harvard Square, where he’ll set up shop with his acoustic guitar, try to connect with passers-by, and summon the feeling he calls "chill chasing — you know how that great song gives you the chills? That’s what makes it all worthwhile . . . chasing that."

FOR AN OUTFIT that was supposed to collapse under its own weight of depression, apathy, and self-described irrelevance, the Brett Rosenberg Problem’s fourth album in as many years sure doesn’t sound like a band staggering on their last legs. If anything, on Speed Metal from Montreal (on the band’s own new, begging-for-a lawsuit Capital Records imprint), the BRP sound like the scrappy underdog who’s been backed into a corner by a neighborhood bully and has no choice but to come out swinging and fight back.

With an embarrassment of switchblade-sharp hooks ("She’s a Vamp"), rock-star swagger ("Not Attracted"), wise-guy wit ("On the Couch"), outsider attitude ("Barely On"), and even a furtive love song or two ("Scared of You," "You’re Gonna . . . Aren’t You?") packed into a tidy 30-minute package, SMFM is a freewheeling summation and extension of everything Rosenberg and the Problem do best. Recorded mostly live in one room at Woolly Mammoth Studios (with some songs introduced on the spot by Rosenberg), the entire album took about 35 hours to complete. Thirty hours of that studio time was on the house thanks to the band’s third-place finish in last year’s Rumble. Rosenberg guesses he "might have spent 400 bucks on this recording." He also reports that the BRP’s old Cambridge-based label, Sodapop, has gone out of business, so the bad news is "we don’t have a label and we’ve got a record out, so we’re just pressing 150 of these for now. I don’t want to be another jackass taking a bath on his own vanity pressings."

So for now, at least, the BRP’s future remains up in the air. As Rosenberg points out, "No one in the band, including me, saw a future for us even a month before the Rumble. When we got in, I think we were all kinda like, ‘Oh shit, we have to try now,’ or perhaps that was just me. I was bored with the music I was making, and I was drinking heavily, so I was difficult to get along with, and playing wasn’t fun anymore. . . . The songs felt old. I couldn’t sell it to myself, so how was I supposed to sell it to anybody else?"

In fact, after the Rumble, one of the new numbers Rosenberg wrote for an intended farewell show, "Barely On," included the lines: "It’s our big night/The band is playing/The room is full of girls and guys/But there’s no faith, no meaning/Let’s just try to rock and let them roll their eyes." The song, Rosenberg says, is "about the band breaking up and getting our asses kicked by a couple of more relevant acts at the Rumble." But once the trio began working on "Barely On" and "Gina Bennice," another new composition, "it was like we were a new band. I don’t think we ever decided not to break up — the band still feels like it’s about to break. The important thing is, we remembered what the hell is so great about playing in a rock band and just put it on tape."

The Brett Rosenberg Problem host a CD-release party tonight, February 24, downstairs at the Middle East, 480 Massachusetts Avenue in Central Square, with Emergency Music, Bleu, and the Everyday Visuals; call (617) 864-EAST. Bowman hosts a CD-release party tomorrow, February 25, at the Lizard Lounge, 1667 Massachusetts Avenue in Cambridge, with Amusia and Aaron Shadwell; call (617) 547-0759.