White-Collar Rockers -- Members Of Bufflehead Are Professional Musicians In More Ways Than One

In his white shirt and snug striped tie, with most of Seattle mere dots in the landscape from his law offices in a downtown skyscraper, Scott Gelband is the very picture of corporate success.

But don't let the yuppie veneer fool you.

Gelband, an attorney for Bogle & Gates, one of the city's largest law firms, and a group of his buddies - all white-collar professionals - lead double lives.

Beneath their calm and cool corporate exteriors are true-blue rock 'n' rollers yearning to breathe free. And every now and then they do - as members of Bufflehead, the only local rock group featuring three lawyers, two architects, and a clinical psychologist.

It all started with an ad in a local music publication.

Gelband, who had played with some groups when he lived on the East Coast, placed an ad in which he identified himself as a singer with a day job who was serious about music and looking for a group.

"I got 30 calls in response to that ad, some serious weirdos," Gelband said. But through the ads he met architects Derek Ryan and Paul Shema, who, respectively, play guitar and bass for the band.

Before Bufflehead they had been in a group called - appropriately enough - Bill Ding. It was Ryan who suggested the name Bufflehead, a type of waterfowl. In old English, it also means blockhead or fool.

Jeff James, who specializes in labor and employment law, had heard about Gelband from co-workers and after talking about their

mutual interest in music, they agreed to exchange tapes.

He eventually became the band's guitarist. Judd Lees, an attorney for another law firm, became the drummer, and Wayne Smith, a clinical psychologist, the keyboardist.

The group's first gig was two years ago at the Eastside Holiday Inn, playing for the Lutheran Youth Convention, not a typical audience.

"Most of the kids were in their early teens and they didn't drink very much," Gelband said. "Between sets they'd put on rap music, and we were definitely not a rap band."

They survived that initiation and these refugees from the corporate world have even managed to develop a following and attain modest success.

For some recent performances at Madison Park's The Attic, where they play most frequently, there have been lines of people waiting to get in. They've also packed some other venues where they've played.

The audience, like the band members, generally range in age from late 20s to early 40s, including some coworkers, Ryan said.

"For folks our age who want to go out and tear it up there are few places to go," Gelband said. "We create an environment where they can cut loose."

Although the band members are taking the summer off from performing, the group plans to go back into the studio soon to record its second cassette.

"It's real fulfilling," Gelband said of his musical career. "There's nothing as satisfying as seeing a crowd sweating and dancing to a tune I've written. You don't get cheers for (writing) a perfect contract, which is also very fulfilling, but in a different way."

What ties the group together is an understanding about the role the music plays in their life: their musical agendas are in harmony.

"I think we got to a point in our lives where we surrendered our dreams to get and earn money," Shema said. "Once we began earning money, we were able to afford the equipment we've always wanted."

In return, the music enables the band members to do their other jobs.

"It's a reason to keep living," James said. "If I weren't doing this I'd be an unhappy lawyer and a bad husband."

Said Gelband: "It's a saving grace."

The decision to seek out security instead of a life in music didn't come easily and, for some, the dream of becoming a professional musician died hard.

James, for example, spent three years of college learning to play the guitar.

"Reality kind of sets in that unless you dream of being a classical musician or teaching high school band, you don't stand much chance of making music into a career," James said. "I decided to do something . . . I decided to go to law school."

After finishing college, Gelband was in a band that aspired to become professional musicians.

"We played five nights a week and that put a lot of pressure on us," he said. "There was a lot of tension. It was one of the reasons why I went to law school. What's great about this job is that it's a good working environment."

Ryan also seriously thought about going to music school, before deciding on a compromise.

"For me, it's been a longtime aspiration to have both careers on track," he said.

While most of the band members are skirting middle age, they say the music isn't an attempt to hang on to their youth.

"I don't think of it as reliving the past," Shema said. "I just love playing the music."

Ironically, the youngest member of the group disagrees.

"I think it does have a lot to do with it," said James, who is 29. "That was a time in my life when my ideals were formed. The music keeps me connected, it's the thing that keeps me tied to my ideals, that's why I cling to it. It's what keeps me real."

Although they take their music seriously, the band members take a practical approach to their career.

"Our goal is not to land a big record contact; our goal is to please and to get screaming happy people," Gelband said.

"Not that we wouldn't take a big contract . . .," James quickly added.

In their most recent performance at the Attic, they played a mixture of the songs Gelband wrote, and then rocked through classics like "Born to Be Wild" and "Rebel, Rebel" well into the early morning hours.

Onstage, dressed in jeans or shorts, their suits and ties banished, the band members seemed completely in sync - flashing knowing smiles to one another.