LORD OF THE RING Davey Von Bohlen says he was one of the quiet students in school. When his classmate Arias tells him that the most popular girl from their Wisconsin high school went to his band's concert, he can't believe it. "She doesn't remember me," the singer and guitar player says. "There's no way." Loitering in the Knitting Factory's bar, Davey is super down-to-earth for a guy whose band just finished headlining the first of two packed shows in Hollywood. Starting out about five years ago with a jazzy feel, the Promise Ring's evolved bulletproof melodies, vulnerable Everyman lyrics, and a fluke mention on MTV's The Real World have made the band a reluctant flag-bearer for the emo music genre. Right now, Davey and the band are clearly on the cusp of the next chapter. Their new record, Wood/Water travels well beyond the happy, catchy sounds of the previous albums. It's slower with extra layers of fuzz, electronics, and contemplation. The live show reflects the growth in sound, and a lot of that has to do with the discovery and treatment of a tumor in Davey's brain. "I'd be halfway through a set and blood would start coming out of my ear," he says. Removing the tumor forced the band to bail out of a tour opening for Bad Religion and slow down its hectic pace of touring and recording. It also forced the band to re-think and re-tool their sound, which had become automatic. Using Pro Tools in the writing process and then enlisting Stephen Street (who produced The Smiths' The Queen Is Dead) resulted a more deliberate and polished sound. Davey says the crowd gets restless during the new songs--that they can't wait for him to unplug the acoustic guitar, break out the electric guitar, and start playing the older, peppier songs. One of the songs has an ultra-slow drum-machine track keeping the set moving like a life support system. Sure enough, there's less singing along and jumping around during the slower, newer songs, but I like them a lot. The sound is more thoughtful and more precise. The songs are sophisticated and addictive in a more subtle way, mixing well in the set with songs from the band's older indie noodling. Under the bright stage lights, you can see the big, T-shaped cleft on Davey's scalp, which was re-opened a few months ago to add a plate. Every now and then, something would hit the spot where doctors removed the fist-sized tumor and his whole body would get jolted. And despite what fans of trepanation argue, his brain's extra ventilation didn't result in extra creativity or capacity for learning. The covering is petroleum-based, so he doesn't have to worry about metal detectors at airports or electromagnets at junkyards. Itıs totally state of the art. Along with the new addition to his skull and new music for the Promise Ring, there's a new record label and a new house in the picture. But Davey keeps things in perspective, and says that things aren't that different than before--or even before that. To update their directory and raise some funds, his high school tracked him down at his new place. They called him every day, and eventually he answered the phone: "'Yes, yes, yes. I live here,' I said. They asked, 'What do you do?' and I told them I was self-employed." And he's working hard. The Promise Ring is headlining shows across the country and their new CD is opening up plenty of non-emo ears. At the merch table, the T-shirts sell like hot donuts. Holding up a double 10" record I bought that has one song that's not on the CD, I ask Davey if the extra track is worth 15 bucks. "I like it," he says. "It's a fast one that just didn't fit with the rest of the record. If nothing else, there are only 2,000 of them so if we ever get big it might be worth something."