Jucifer.

ON THE BRINK OF FINANCIAL DISASTER, Jucifer's Amber Valentine and Ed Livengood did the unthinkable. The couple quit their restaurant jobs, sublet their house in Athens, GA, rid themselves of most of their possessions, bought an RV, and with their two dogs and the occasional roadie they hit the road to pursue their passion. Three years later, they haven't looked back.

"The more we toured the more we realized we didn't need that stuff holding us down. We could have done this 10 years ago when the band first started, but everyone told us we couldn't do it," says drummer Livengood.

"Being in a band is not perceived as a realistic goal," says Valentine, the petite vocalist and guitarist, striking in person with her raven black hair, pale skin, and incredibly long eye lashes that accentuate her emerald green eye shadow and black eyeliner. "It's exhausting, but rewarding. Lots of people enjoy playing music, but don't love it as the first commitment of their life. If it's THE most important thing, like it is to us, you make it happen."

Returning to Athens only twice a year to record, Jucifer has made the dream of playing music, not only as a career, but as a way of life, happen--by sacrificing creature comforts like a physical mailing address for the open road and a rock show every night.

"It's really easy for your life to quickly pass you by, but when streamlined to the point that we have it, it's easier to keep a handle on things you're trying to do and where you want to be," says Valentine.

Living a mostly solitary existence is not anything new for Valentine who grew up in rural Georgia, making friends with dead authors rather than kids her own age. It wasn't until she met Livengood, who had moved down from Washington DC, that she found both a songwriting and life partner.

"It was magic when we first played together. You can't place an ad to find that," she says. "Both of us had either been the songwriter or the slave, but never in position to collaborate. And once we started writing with one another, the songs came so quickly."

"For as long as I can remember I have always wanted to be in a band like this," says the tall and lanky Livengood, whose long sandy hair is in two ponytails sticking out from underneath his "No Cerveza, No Trabajar" trucker cap. "We'll pull into a campground or a parking lot of a Wal-Mart for the night and take the dogs on a long walk and go over stuff. We've already written four albums in our heads just from walking the dogs."

Jucifer fans have come to expect the unexpected from the group's albums. For a band that has "no idea what the hell is going on in popular music," they certainly know what they don't want to be. They don't want to be predictable. Instead, they are going to be "all over the place sonically," like on their 1998 debut Calling All Cars on the Vegas Strip. They'll mix it up with piano driven ballads found on the Lambs EP. I Name You Destroyer will be recorded "without Pro Tools, loops, samples, studio musicians, big shots or lackeys," and on the 2004 War Bird EP, they will try hazy stoner rock for a minute and then leave you with a political bluegrass-inspired freedom cry. The only constant is the pure, visceral live energy that makes Jucifer Jucifer.

The sheer volume of their live show is an assault on everything we know and love about rock. Livengood plays drums with his eyes closed, speeding up and slowing down depending on what he sees in his mind. He's fast, loose, and totally unpredictable. Urban legend has it he broke his arm during a show by hitting the skins so hard. Valentine provides the churning dirge that is a hybrid of metal riffs and psych rock with vocals that go from a sensual hypnotic whisper to the howls of a possessed woman. Together they play in front of 14 amps that emit enough wattage to even send King Buzzo running for cover.

"People ask why we make these incredibly long drives to unload equipment, play 40 minutes, then load everything up to find ourselves on the road again," says Livengood. "I'll never be able to describe what it feels like to be in front of that wall of amps. If they could sit where I sit with that much volume pushing against their back, they would do it every night. It's amazing. Lots of people need big houses and shit; this is what we want."