Kind of an odd name to give a band that is just releasing its debut album - the Notorious Cherry Bombs.

But the country rock group, or at least its members, is anything but notorious. Not when folks like Rodney Crowell, Vince Gill, Tony Brown and a bunch of longstanding ace Nashville sidemen stalwarts are aboard.

In fact, the album may mark the debut music from the group, but this is not the first time most of them played together.

The Cherry Bombs - most of them - actually were the well-regarded backing band for Crowell about 25 years ago.

Crowell says during a cell phone interview somewhere on the road in New Mexico that his intent in making the record was "honestly, trying to have some fun. And trying not to take it too seriously. As a matter of fact, I wasn't even concerned with making the best album I can. I didn't care about that. To me, it was just Vince and I hadn't worked together in a long time. That was one of the things that I was interested in. Vince and I hadn't hooked up in years because we've been on two different paths."

Crowell says his time with Gill in their previous musical lives "was just a barrel of laughs. We just laughed all the time, having some fun and having some laughs."

And Crowell indicates they continued with that same attitude on the self-titled disc out in late July on the single with the ultra long title, "It's Hard to Kiss the Lips at Night That Chew Your Ass Out All Day Long."

The very funny song is a man talking about his woman, who used to treat him a helluva better, but he can't much stand her any more.

"She used to call me baby, I thought she was such a lady/But my how things have changed since times moved on/I'd give her my last dollar and now all she'll do is holler/oh my life has become a country song."

For the purists, the song may not be quite PC these days, but that didn't phase the Bombs.

"Typical of how we can when we hook up, we write 'It's Hard,'" says Crowell. "Hey, we can't be taking ourselves too seriously with this stuff. It's just fun you know."

"That was actually something Vince's father told him before he died," says Crowell, adding, "(Vince) told me the title, and I said 'let's do it'. We did it. My wife came home right about when we finished it, and we sheepishly played it for her, and she said she loved it. I didn't believe her, and I later heard her singing it in the shower. I called Vince and said it's okay to play for Amy (Grant) because I heard Claudia singing it in the shower."

"Both of us over the years have developed reputation as sensitive guys, but it's a pretty insensitive song. You can't take it too seriously."

The Cherry Bombs also include drummer Eddie Bayers, bassist Michael Rhodes, who toured with Emmylou Harris, pianist/organist Johnny Hobbs, who has been with Gill, guitarist Richard Bennett and guitarist Hank DeVito.

The origin of the Cherry Bombs is connected with Emmylou Harris. Crowell already was playing in her backing Hot Band. DeVito played with Harris as well.

Former Elvis sideman Glen D. Hardin had left Harris' backing Hot Band, and word got back to her that she "should at least audition me," says Brown in a phone interview from his office at Universal South Records, the label he in part owns and which is releasing his band's efforts.

"Her first three albums were three of my most favorite country albums ever," says Brown, a keyboard ace, who once toiled for Elvis. "I was more scared to audition for her than Elvis. I didn't even audition for Elvis. I did my best Glenn D. Hardin impersonation and got the job."

In stepped Brown and out went Crowell to go on his own.

Others playing for Harris included Ricky Skaggs, guitarist Albert Lee, bassist Emory Gordy Jr., Gill, Crowell and DeVito.

"I kept hearing on the bus Emmylou kept talking about Rodney," says Brown. "Rodney was producing Rosanne Cash's album, 'Right or Wrong.' He wanted to use pieces of the old Hot Band and pieces of the new Hot Band."

That resulted in Skaggs, Lee and Gordy Jr. playing on the disc.

"Rodney said, you know, we should go out and play some clubs," says Brown.

Next thing he knows is that the following Saturday night, Crowell was playing a gig in Redondo Beach, Cal. Gordy, Lee and DeVito were aboard with a billing of "Rodney Crowell, a boy and his hot band, the Cherry Bombs."

"We started playing up and down the coast, Santa Cruz, you name it any club," says Brown. "We would always have the press come out and see us and Ronstadt and Glenn Frey and Billy Gibbons (of ZZ Top). We go, 'this is working?'"

Crowell decided he wanted to use the Cherry Bombs on his second album, "But What Will the Neighbors Think," in 1980. Ace drummer Larrie Londin also was aboard as a Cherry Bomb.

They also recorded Crowell's next album "Rodney Crowell" and two more for Cash.

At the time, Brown secured a job working with RCA Records in Los Angeles.

"On the weekends, I'd play with Emmy & the New Hot Band. Sometimes, I'd play with Rosanne or Rodney and the Cherry Bombs. We were basically the backup band for Rodney and Rosanne."

Brown, though, ended up back in Nashville with RCA.

Duty in the form of Crowell called however, wanting him on the road for three months. "I said, 'Rodney, I got a job'," Brown says of Crowell. "He said we're going to tour for three months. He said, 'how much are you making?' - I told him - 'Are you having fun?' - 'No because (RCA label head) Jimmy (Bowen) won't let me produce anything'."

"I signed Alabama, and the next day I resigned," he says.

For the next three years, the Cherry Bombs were in business. Lee occasionally couldn't tour because he gigged with Eric Clapton. Richard Bennett stepped into the void.

When Bennett had other obligations, Gill came forward.

But Brown eventually returned to Nashville. Cash "kept having babies. I went 'this road life is getting old'."

Brown was glad for the opportunities on the West Coast. "My influences in music came directly from Emmylou Harris and the music that the Hot Band did. That kind of music turned me back onto country music...It's just damn cool."

The Cherry Bombs eventually went their own way.

"What happened is the truth is the Cherry Bombs happened before I was having hits as a solo recording artist myself," says Crowell. "I couldn't afford to keep it together. Richard Bennett went on to be a producer, Tony, Emory produced. Vince became a superstar. Hank wrote songs and was a session musician. So everybody had plenty to do and had careers of their own, although it was a really great band at the time."

"Amazingly everybody in that band has gone to do amazingly well for themselves," says Bennett, who in a prior lifetime did 10 years with Neil Diamond.

The fate was not good for all of the Cherry Bombs. Londin died in 1992.

Crowell's career didn't go anywhere until 1988 when he had five straight number one hits on his "Diamond & Dirt" album, which Brown co-produced with Crowell.

Fast track to late 2002.

Crowell was to receive an award from ASCAP, a songwriting group, in Nashville. Somehow the idea was hatched to bring together the Cherry Bombs to play a few songs together at the event.

"We thought, hell we can handle that," Brown says, adding, "We learned three songs and got everybody back together."

That was except for Gordy, and Bayers replaced the deceased Londin. Gordy could not be reached for comment, although Crowell says he was asked numerous times and refused to participate. Hobbs also had joined the lineup along with Rhodes, who had done a Hot Band reunion tour of Europe with Harris.

"At ASCAP, Emmylou stepped in with us too," says Crowell. "We (later) told Emmy, no girls allowed on this record, just (Vince Gill's daughter) Jenny Gill."

The group did "Ashes By Now," "Stars on the Water" and "Ain't Living Long Like This." "We rocked the house," Brown says. "On the way back to the table, I was stopped by everybody, and the room is only filled with top-level song publishers (who said) 'you guys have got to cut a record.'"

Crowell felt the same. "We went and played, and after we were through, I said, 'listen, am I wrong or did we sound better now than we used to?' and I really thought we sounded better than we did when we were playing all the time. One thing led to another."

Crowell says he visited Brown at his house. "I wondered what it would sound like if we made a record," Crowell says. "We called Vince and said let's do it."

Bennett says he reunited because he was with "old friends. Generally speaking I tend not to look back and am not too interested in that kind of thing. The chance for Hank to get back together with me involved and Vince and Rodney, it (was) something I said yes to immediately without even thinking about and really everybody apart from Emory was very enthusiastic about throwing it back together again."

"The only guy who really got left off the Cherry Bombs was Albert Lee," says Crowell. "I think he was off in Europe touring."

"If Albert wants to get ticked at us, he's got a legitimate reason," he says.

Why the notorious part of the name instead of Cherry Bombs?

"Legal problems," says Crowell. "It was Rodney Crowell and the Cherry Bombs in the '80s. I never thought to register the name. There are some other entities out there in the world (including) porno sites. The legal department at the record company, to let us make the record, we had to put an adjective on there. There are no good adjectives. Notorious Cherry Bombs was as good as we can get. We wanted to say to heck with it."

As for who actually penned the "Notorious" name, Crowell says, "I'll take that one. I'll take the heat for the notorious good or bad."

Recording started in January, a lot later than first planned. Planning isn't exactly very easy considering the need to coordinate the schedules of eight people.

A first stab at recording fell through because Brown was badly hurt after falling down stairs in Los Angeles in 2003 and needed to recuperate for many months.

Eventually the timing worked out to record.

Brown says it was a now or never situation. "It seemed like if we were going to do this, if we don't do it this year, then we'll never do it. We'll be talking about in a bar."

Crowell underscored the attitude going into the recording.

"Here's what we said when we started recording," says Crowell. "Vince and I said this, and everyone else agreed - let's start this, and if it's fun, let's keep going, and if it stops being fun, let's pull the plug."

"It never stopped being fun," says Crowell.

The octet recorded 12 songs. A chunk were written together by Crowell and Gill, including the opener "Let It Roll, Let It Ride," which also happens to be the closer in a changed reprise.

"I always told Vince 'you jerk, you are selling millions and billions of records, and you won't write any songs with me?' He'd say, 'Okay, I'm going to'. Then he'd just blow me off."

This was not the first time the two wrote together. "When we were kids and foolng around, we wrote songs," says Crowell. One co-write, "Oklahoma Borderline," is a fast-paced staple of Gill concerts.

And Gill and Crowell both contributed songs they had written on their own. DeVito offered "Sweet Little Lisa," a song he wrote about 25 years ago with Walter Martin and Donivan Cowart.

Crowell says "Let It Roll, Let It Ride" underscores the attitude in making the album.

"I think we were talking to ourselves (with) that song," he says. "That song was just sort of articulating the philosophy we were talking about when were going to make the record...hey, lighten up, let something good happen."

"Sweet Little Lisa" harkens back to the first Cherry Bombs.

"That's actually one of the songs that was around when the original Cherry Bombs were playing. We never recorded it. I think Dave Edmunds recorded it. It was a song out of our think tank that has remained with it. I think it was the first song that we recorded for this. We all knew the words. It has that country rock flavor that we were identified with when we did uptempo back in that day."

Despite having so many top notch players, Bennett says it was not too difficult to figure out who would play what, according to Bennett.

"When you have three guitar players in a band, there's a little bit of who's going to do what," Bennett says. "Hank doesn't always necessarily play steel. There were times when we had three guitars going at once. It really depends on the song and on whose style is better suited to taking the lead."

"Generally speaking, Vince had the vast majority of guitar work," he says.

"He played lead on 'Oklahoma Dust'," he says, adding, "I'm very happy to take a rhythm guitar or secondary guitar role. It's never a tussle. It's one of those things that happens very naturally. We just kind of all (fell) into our spots, and that comes from years of doing session work too."

While production costs could run expensive, that wasn't the case here. Of course, it doesn't hurt that the main players weren't paid, nor were the producers (the Cherry Bombs).

"Usually if I cut an album on George Strait or whoever and I use the top engineers in town, using the best studios and best musicians, as quick as I can cut George, it's going to cost $200,000," says Brown. "I think this record, we bought it all in for about $50,000-$75,000. It's easy to recoup this record."

Crowell says these vets didn't have use for high tech tools in making the record. "We didn't belabor anything. We worked really fast. If there was any arrogance on our part on all, we wanted to show some of these punks we didn't know auto tuning and Pro Tools. Anything more than work would be bloated."

The recording was finished in about 28 days including mixing, which Crowell handled. That was about half the time he spent on his last album, "Fate's Right Hand."

Brown like his compadrés interviewed does not seem consumed by the idea of selling millions.

"Let's cut a great album, but let's not be so hard on ourselves that we have to get critical acclaim," says Brown. "If we don't have that by now at this stage in our careers, we might as well quit."

Crowell says he is comfortable with the album the group made.

Will the Notorious Cherry Bombs be relegated to the CD bins only or might they hit the stage? The thinking of several members was that they probably would do between half a dozen and a dozen shows to promote the disc.

"From now on, it'll be a scheduling problem," says Crowell. "Everybody's making a living. I'm out on the road with my band. Everyone else's doing what they do. I guess if the music speaks loud enough and it leads to something, we'll go and follow it. If the music isn't interesting for people to want to hear it, I guess we won't. I don't want to say about that. It may be something. It may not be. It's already been a success."

"This is just good old boys getting back together to make a record," says Brown. "If it does great, great. If it doesn't sell, it doesn't go platinum, then I don't feel that we failed. We did it just to document who we were back then and who we are now and how we have something to say musically as a band."