It was an unusually humid day as we sped through the valley. My associate, Ross Radke, had decided to cart our entourage around in an SUV with no air-conditioning, and only the front windows could be rolled down. Our trip to Redmond had not been an easy one.

Unlike me, everyone else in the car seemed rather exuberant given the situation. Ross and his younger brother Garett had satisfied smiles on their faces — they were in the front seats. Meanwhile, I shared the back section of this oven with the gangly Derek Aubert, our photographer for the evening, who was having a great time bashing those androgynous boys and girls who paint their nails black and always straighten their hair. He happily discussed their addiction of choice: cutting.

Pain, like physical exercise, produces morphine in the brain. Pain, however, produces this natural morphine in much larger quantities. It's the new drug of choice for today's in-crowd.

On this particular occasion we were heading to see The Breakers at the Old Redmond Firehouse, and it was bound to be quite a departure from the scene-dominating screamo/hardcore shows on Seattle's Eastside. The Breakers is a four-piece rock-and-roll group based in Redmond that has been around in some form or another for the past four years. Fronted by Ray Stewart, a skinny 19-year-old with the long blonde hair and quiet confidence that are standard for singers, The Breakers has been making its mark in Seattle. The band took second in the Eastside's Classic Rock-a-Thon and plays shows throughout King County to a variety of enthusiastic audiences.

"Our core audience is 15- and 16-year-old girls who look up to Ray because he's anorexic," explained Andy Emery, Stewart's arch-nemesis and drummer for The Breakers.

These exchanges between Emery and Stewart had been around long before I came to be acquainted with this colorful group. They playfully traded insults and made cracks at each other throughout the rest of the evening.

After shoving our way through the mass of "scenesters" waiting outside the Old Firehouse to see the show, Stewart was introduced to my entourage. We rounded up the rest of the band and headed to dinner at a local sub shop.

Our group seemed to unnerve the shop's owners, but we got ourselves into a few booths in the back without much visible protest. Immediately the band spread out and began writing set lists for the evening show. At some point a list made its way to my lap with a note reading, "Ray is gay." Oh, Mr. Emery, how you brilliantly and poignantly disparage your fellow band mate.

The conversation bounced from subject to subject: from Stewart's choice to wear an unbuttoned shirt that showed off his chest hair to the band's various problems with past members, notably drummers.

"Oh, by the way, I'm quitting the band next week," Emery joked.

Stewart commented on his choice to attend Western Washington University this fall, saying, "I'm gonna try and commute back to the Eastside every other week or so, practicing as much as possible when I'm back home."

He also plays bass for the local punk-rock outfit A Chance Without, which just recently signed to an upstart indie label.

"I joined under the pretense that I'd be leaving for school in the fall, so the band is confident they will find a new bassist in the meantime," he said.

Dual guitarists Jack Machin and Kristian Lieberg seemed assured that things will work out for The Breakers.

"We practice twice a week or so these days, and we sound pretty good, so I'm sure it'll be okay," said Lieberg, who will be attending the University of Washington next quarter.

How confident he seemed. And confidence is something that all of the members, despite a rough-around-the-edges look, exuded as they cruised about their hometown.

As the night progressed, conversations like this were overpowered by loud, aggressive rock music. The Solid Hypnotic, another Eastside band, put on a good old-fashioned rock show. The drummer, a large and stocky teenager with a hairdo lifted from Dazed and Confused, seemed less like he was "playing" his drums and more like he was mutilating the entire set.

"We like to be the soundtrack to a good time," said Joshua Kipersztock, the 17-year-old guitarist and vocalist for The Solid Hypnotic.

Wise words from a wise kid. So '70s. This is exactly what will lift rock music from its deathbed — a bunch of energetic high schoolers.

The next band was an enigmatic spectacle. The Stay on Targets (a name taken from Star Wars) came out of left field. Their stage setup was quite the exhibition for a teen center show. While a traditional rock band produced the music, their stage antics kept the audience's attention. The keyboard stand was a 30-year-old TV, which showed episodes of The Transformers and footage from the '70s sci-fi film Westworld as well as other old nostalgic movies.

At one point, the singer donned an Optimus Prime mask and used its built-in voice changer to alter his vocals. A while later he sat down in the middle of the stage, passed the mic over to the guitarist and enjoyed a round of Super Mario Bros. 2 while the band played on.

Finally, The Breakers took the stage. Continuing the evening's retro theme, they strutted onto the stage and broke into a funky intro. "Buy a shirt! Buy our CDs! Shirts are only five bucks!" Sellouts. It would figure, since all the hit bands in the '70s sold out at some point or another. What a shame it had to happen to The Breakers so soon.

Luckily, the audience forgave their mainstream shenanigans. Both the crowd and the band seemed ecstatic to be in the club, and everyone bounced around like lottery balls do just before a few lucky numbers are pulled out and read aloud on the 10 o'clock news. As the show ended, the audience seemed satisfied and on a bit of a natural high. Maybe it was all the morphine their brains had produced while they were jumping and dancing around.