Their PR sounds like someone ate way too much Bohemian mythology, from Kerouac to Burroughs, and then went out drinking all night, but while the Good for Nothin’ Band won’t “decapitate your senses with songs and music crafted from utter mayhem and sheer debauchery,” they are very definitely good for something: in this case, translating swinging jazz into a more rock-oriented format. Not that they get super electric and rock out or anything, but these guys definitely approach classic New Orleans jazz (mostly of the Louis Prima–esque post–World War II persuasion) with a nod and a wink, then adapt it to their own outsize salaciousness, the same way a band like Aerosmith uses the blues. It’s not ironic so much as repurposed, locally sourced tradition cut into sheets of drunken, winking seduction. They’re not about to unleash “St. James Infirmary” on you, but they’re not going to bore you into leaving the bar, either.

It works, too, because singer/songwriter/leader Jon Roniger has a great, endlessly expressive voice, all clove cigarettes and martinis, that’s matched perfectly by Alex Massa’s divebombing trumpet solos. The lyrics are fairly witty, too, exploring what Roniger blatantly (and lovingly) describes as the city of “sex and jazz and whores” as a state of mind unto itself but also employing it as a backdrop for all those messy physical and romantic entanglements. (“Well, you’ll go back to your humdrum and your same old style/ But now you’ve got some bounce and a twisted little smile.”) It’s a rock band version of gypsy jazz, but you can dance to it. Preferably close to a new friend.