Artist:     Mumps

Album:     Rock & Roll This, Rock & Roll That

Label:     Omnivore Recordings

Release Date:     6.4.21

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There wasn’t a closet anywhere in the ‘70s that could hold the energetic Lance Loud. On what is thought to be the first-ever reality TV show, “An American Family,” he openly declared his homosexuality—as only the eventual gay icon could—on the fly-on-the-wall 1973 PBS docuseries about the Loud clan. That was when all the fun started.

With his Santa Barbara, California, high school friend and keyboardist Kristian Hoffman, Loud formed a band, with future Patti Smith Group drummer Jay Dee Daugherty in tow, that so perfectly bore his name. Loud’s mom, Pat, demanded they perform on “The Dick Cavett Show,” but the story doesn’t end there, as Loud headed to New York City. That’s where Andy Warhol lived, and Loud, who died in 2001, was infatuated with the artist. Wildly theatrical and irreverent, their glammy power-pop picking up the New York Dolls’ trash and throwing it all over the soundtrack to “The Rocky Horror Picture Show,” the audacious Loud became the cheeky, colorful punk outfit Mumps. Regulars at CBGB and Max’s Kansas City, they brought the circus to town for every riotous gig, the area up front always a splash zone due to Loud sweating buckets onstage. Even Warhol was impressed and touted Mumps’ greatness.

The subject of a well-curated, 23-song compilation from the quality-conscious Omnivore Recordings, Mumps was an outrageously entertaining live act, but left little behind in the way of recordings from a seven-year existence. The only two singles they released are here, spiking the punch with the euphoria of a ridiculously infectious “Rock & Roll This, Rock & Roll That” and the delightfully coy, quirky pop of “I Like to be Clean.” Hoffman and drummer Paul Rutner gathered additional material for this set that was recorded between 1974-79, including the hyperactive “Just Look, Don’t Touch,” the whimsically inventive “Awkward Age” and “That Fatal Charm,” and the exhilarating, piano-pounding “We Ended Up.” Among the litter are the faux-horror vamp “Scream & Scream Again,” with its eerie organ and ominous bass line, and buoyant numbers, such as a bratty “Anyone but You” and the Vaudevillian charmer “Forget Me Not,” that are as catchy as the off-kilter “Brain Massage” is hilariously demented.

CD and digital versions are tagged with nine bonus tracks, two of them previously unissued missives from when Mumps was known as Loud, as the viciously funny swagger of “Cha Cha Cha,” complete with sassy female backing vocals, and a celebratory “Back in the Streets” inject even more frivolity into the proceedings. “Before the Accident,” “Teach Me” and “Dutch Boy” all show just how exciting, creative and unpredictable they were, constantly toying with arrangements, cleverly changing things up on the fly and just being their witty, sarcastic and unabashedly flamboyant selves. The musicianship is surprising taut, as well.

Until a Mumps bio pic comes along, and it should, this satisfying and definitive collection will suffice, as mother Pat, Hoffman, Rutner and another former member, Joe Katz, reminisce nostalgically in liner notes that make for a compelling and insightful read, as visitors wander through old photos and ephemera from those halcyon days. Four out of five doctors say catching Mumps is advised.

—Peter Lindblad