People’s Republic

Right here beneath the glittering chandeliers of the Oak Bar in the Fairmont Hotel. The lead singer of the Golden Republic is lying on his side. His eyes are closed. His mouth is open. He is speaking fluent Mumble with the men from the Kansas City Fire Department who are hovering over his prone body.

"What's your name?" one of them asks.

"Ben."

"How old are you, Ben?"

"Mmmmmm ... 27."

"How many drinks have you had tonight?"

"Ummm ... two ... or three."

This is an outright lie. And not a particularly convincing one, either.

Over the past two hours, Grimes has downed six vodka-and-cranberry cocktails and smoked three hand-rolled Havana Moon cigarettes while he and his bandmates have discussed what it means to pick up the gauntlet of introducing Kansas City music to people and places of importance.

Clearly, the task comes with complications.

Not that having some smokes and a seizure is a typical Wednesday night. This is a rare occurrence, Grimes later says, brought on by an untimely confluence of too many drinks, too many cigarettes and not enough sleep.

He's carted out of the Oak Bar in a wheelchair and taken to the hospital, where he is treated and released. A couple of weeks later, bass player Harry Anderson will be stricken with an ulcer, forcing the group to cancel a show for the first time. With a little rest and a little less self-pollution, though, they'll be rocking toward stardom again in no time.

Hold up.

It's not quite that simple.

Ultimate Fakebook. The Gadgits. Giant's Chair. Casket Lottery. Creature Comforts. Shiner. They all came. They all saw. And now they're all entombed in the vault of local bands that had their cup of coffee in the big leagues, only to discover it was laced with strychnine.

But this time is different.

At least that's how it always appears in the middle of the ascent. Golden Republic did, after all, release its Astralwerks debut The Golden Republic on February 8. The group's People EP -- released last fall -- did crack the CMJ charts. British tastemaker Steve Lamacq has been spinning the Golden Republic on his BBC radio show. The group does have one South by Southwest Music Festival appearance under its belt and another on the way. The band did snag a photo in Spin magazine. And the Golden Republic has toured with indie darlings Sondre Lerche, Nada Surf and Idlewild and will join Blur guitarist Graham Coxon on the road in the weeks ahead.

The palatial Fairmont Hotel looms above the Country Club Plaza as an opulent terminal where people who have made it catch a moment of respite from doing the terribly important things they do. Two hours before Grimes begins writhing on the carpet between the sushi bar and the cabinet of fine cigars, things are relatively sedate in the Oak Bar.

The room is filled mostly with bourgeois businessmen and manicured matrons. The women sit by the crackling fireplace, sipping sherry and gazing with boredom at the Brooks Brothers sitting beside them puffing on Montecristos and discussing grave matters over cell phones while their younger brethren stand at the bar swilling scotch and giving one another hearty, fraternal claps on the back.

And then there is the Golden Republic.

A surface appraisal of the band suggests they have been sent directly from Indie Rock Central Casting. The disheveled hair. The two-day stubble. The torn jeans, battered tennis shoes and thrift-store jackets. They look like any rock band.

But the group's music is a rainbow coalition of sounds, borrowing from glam, new wave, disco, punk, soul, garage and classic rock.

"I love the idea of digesting such different, wonderful things and trying to make something new out of it," Grimes says. "That's what all good music does: Takes some really diverse, really interesting influences and puts it together to make one new thing that is special unto itself."

When you listen to the Golden Republic, you probably hear bastard strains of Interpol, Nada Surf and the Killers. What they hear is an amalgam of Blur, Talking Heads and T. Rex.

"I think there's a very blatant T. Rex thing," Grimes says. "Electric Warrior taught me how I thought songs should be written ... [and] thank God for the Blur 'Song 2' single, because that was the first time I discovered that new British invasion that pulled me out of grunge."

Identity hasn't been simple for the Golden Republic. Grimes and drummer Ryan Shank, who are first cousins, started the band as the People in Springfield, Missouri, in 1999.

"We had an all-black [clothing] thing," Grimes says. "It was really retarded."

Eventually, the group's music and clothing matured enough to round out the current lineup upon their relocation to Kansas City. It wasn't long before the group and its Basement Recordings EP began generating buzz beyond the region as the band evolved from playing in front of paltry crowds as an opening act at the Brick to headlining packed houses at the Hurricane and the Bottleneck.

New York City-based manager Ben Weber was handling operations for Ultimate Fakebook and Nada Surf when he heard Basement Recordings. He agreed to represent the People without ever meeting them.