Truth be told, Soulcracker’s sweatin’ a little.

Soulcracker's been simmering for more than five years. Since their origins as buddies at Northern Arizona University, they’ve mixed underground and pop streaks with an affable, scattershot approach to ska-core. Never cultivating any definable sound, but rather mutating from standard ska/punk to psychedelica and points beyond, Soulcracker joined the buzzing San Diego music scene circa 1995.

"It's never been a unified style of music," says bassist A.P. Murray of the band’s material. "It's been a story of us growing from teenagers to adults."

As a house band at Winston's, influenced by a supportive and incestuous scene, they made fast friends and fans. Piggybacking on the local popularity of Greyboy All-Stars, Wise Monkey Orchestra, and Superunloader, Soulcracker felt pushed to let their freak flag fly. Elements of speed metal, acid jazz, rocksteady, and hip-hop made their way into the band’s extended jams. With such eclecticism, however, they had inadvertently set themselves apart when the industry sharks came sniffing about, snatching up many unsigned local acts but passing on Soulcracker. That was about four years ago.

To the guys in Soulcracker, the band has always been ‘on the verge of greatness." Still, all that time gigging endlessly without getting signed led to the group’s muscular musical growth. They lost a founding member and, in the process, much of their ska-based origins, some of it chronicled on their self-produced discs, 5.5 and Nowhere Fast (Marge Records).

"We've played over a thousand shows," says vocalist Beastie Ulery, whose nickname was earned for his fanatical
teenage worship of the Beastie Boys.

"There's times I was throwing up between songs," injects drummer Bob Hamel. "Beastie's played with his knee fresh from surgery."

"We've been like five bands in the life of this band," says guitarist/vocalist Sutton Althisar. Althisar talks as much to his bandmates as to the tape recorder. "I do attribute whatever success we have from playing live [to] all that background, those different styles of music we had. We are nothing if not all those experiences and influences and honesty."

Stripped to its essentials, today’s Soulcracker finds itself recast as a guitar-driven rock band. It’s a style they are not uncomfortable with.

 "We used to be raw, almost immature," says Hamel with a pained look. "Now, we’re more American Beauty than American Pie. . . Probably we’re somewhere in between. Maybe American Graffiti."

Their songs -- which they say evolve organically, more "out of necessity and gut feeling" than deliberate craftsmanship or polish -- will now have to deliver on the hype surrounding their live reputation. The detour from the alt-rock fast track may turn out to have been a blessing in disguise.

 "I think, at any given time, the music could have been marketable," says Beastie. "But we were never into making it into that -- and I'm glad we did it the way we did. I don't want to be playing 19-year-old party music. . . singing about stupid stuff, anymore than I wanna be playing ska songs at 240 beats per minute forever."