Trends may come and go, but nakedly emotional, discordant guitar rock remains as enduringly American a sound as jazz or hip-hop. Whether represented by Nirvana selling millions, Modest Mouse vying for attention at a major label, or the likes of 764-Hero moving along at their own pace in relative obscurity, such music will be among us as long as they're still manufacturing electric guitars and drums.

Carrying the wonderfully meaningless name of their home city's car-pool-violation hotline, Seattle's 764-Hero built a considerable underground following between 1995 and '98 as a two-piece: John Atkins' painfully personal vocals backed only by his guitar and Polly Johnson's drums. Two 7-inch singles, an EP and an album later, bassist James Bertram joined, giving the group at least a semblance of normalcy for its second full-length release, Get Here and Stay.

Now, on Weekends of Sound, the trio attack their music with increased confidence and style while maintaining a flagrant disregard for the rules. Guitars don't so much follow the vocals as overpower them. Basslines pick independent melodies amid the constant crash of cymbals. Chord progressions routinely head into minor keys, to mirror the underlying sadness of the refrains. And, in the background, Atkins' vocals hang wistfully. Less linear than emotive, his lyrics — "Didn't even try" from the opening "Terrified of Flight"; "We're so tired" from the title track (RealAudio excerpt); "Dreams are mathematical" from the powerful finale "Blue Light" (RealAudio excerpt) — don't quite add up. But then they don't really need to; this is music best left incomplete.

Besides the obvious emo/grunge/Seattle references, the biggest influence on 764-Hero would seem to be the Cure. Robert Smith's guitar work is emulated as early as the first few seconds of this album, and the title track's juxtaposition of plucked bass against soft minor chords and strained vocals is almost a tribute to the mope-rockers — at least for the two minutes before the song dives headlong into a violent chorus. Weekends of Sound's centerpiece, "Left Hanging" (RealAudio excerpt), takes a different course, though: As an eight-minute powerhouse that throws the guitar painfully high in the mix and features a screamed, indiscernible vocal chorus (but no verse) set against incongruous yet delightful handclaps, it's rock music in the unruly tradition of Nirvana and the Jesus and Mary Chain. That it might not currently be popular music doesn't detract from its impact at all.