If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, then pastiche artists must be the most flattering of all. Pastiche, of course, is the kinder, classier term for the art of appropriating another artist’s signature style. In the world of fine art painting, it’s considered an essential part of a student’s journey towards finding an original voice. In popular music, however, originality can be inessential, as it is hard to come by. Since the birth of rock, new bands have tended to emulate the sound of the band that inspired them to pick up their instruments in the first place. Thus, an “original” rock act is often nothing more than a fresh pairing of two or more influences. On rare occasions, however, a band will draw so extensively on one single influence that their recordings sound like a long lost album from their heroes. We are not talking about tribute or cover bands here, but so-called original artists working within the exact style parameters of their prime influences.

Two of the best examples of this phenomenon, Klaatu and the Explorers Club, each took different paths to pastiche perfection.

Klaatu were a trio of talented Toronto musicians whose instantly deleted 1976 album, 3:47 EST, sounded so much like the Beatles that it touched off a wave of critical speculation that the Fab Four themselves had secretly snuck back onto the market after six years away. According to Klaatu’s Dee Long, besides the obvious “Beatles vibe” on some of the tracks, the rumor grew out of the public’s insatiable craving for a mid-’70s Beatles reunion coupled with the fact that the Toronto band had deliberately, perhaps cheekily, left their actual names off the credits.

“It started with an article by Steve Smith written for a Rhode Island newspaper,” Long recalls. “He had pulled a copy of our first album from the delete bin and wondered if this could be the Beatles recording under another name. To be compared to the Beatles, even a little, was a great honor.”

Klaatu had been in England, recording their follow-up album Hope, when all Help! broke loose. Upon their return to Toronto, Long and his fellow Klaatu mates, Terry Draper and John Woloschuck, were handed a mountain of newspaper clippings; all of them speculating that Klaatu were the Beatles in disguise.

“It was a lot of fun reading what was going on,” Long recalls. “People were really excited! When we found out what was going on, we had no desire to change direction and reveal our identities. That may have been a mistake, but our only intent was to make music that could stand for itself. The basic tracks and orchestral parts for Hope were already recorded, and most certainly contained many Beatle style elements. It was encouraging that we were making music people wanted to hear, even if for the wrong reasons.”

Today, Long has mixed feelings about his band’s 15 minutes of Fab Four fame.

“There’s no doubt,” Long concedes, “that we were, and are, huge Beatles fans. ‘Sub-Rosa Subway’, in particular, was definitely an attempt to sound like the Beatles from the ‘Penny Lane’ era. At least I saw it that way. All the Beatles-influenced songs were written by John Woloschuck. I mean, John sings with a British accent, although he doesn’t have one normally! In Australia, they even used voice detection to prove conclusively that Paul McCartney was singing ‘Sub-Rosa Subway.’”

Yet, despite the inevitable backlash when it became apparent that the Canadian trio was not so Fab after all, Long now feels the affair probably helped prolong, rather than curtail, Klaatu’s recording career.

“It’s hard to say,” Long reckons, “but I figure that, without the publicity, the album would have remained in the delete bin. The second album would have followed it into obscurity, and the third might never have been made. As it turned out, we made it all the way to five albums, with declining sales from one to the next. People were angry and felt they had been made fools of. Same with the DJs and radio people who felt they had been given the run-around. In our defense, we never intended to fool anyone, but we were still glad to at least have made an impact of some kind. We probably have more fans today than ever before.”

If Klaatu were slightly reluctant to be cast as the Beatles, then South Carolina band the Explorers Club would probably volunteer to play their ’60s rivals, the Beach Boys.

Their recent debut, Freedom Wind, so perfectly emulates the mid-’60s “Wrecking Crew” sound of Brian Wilson that some die-hard Beach Boys fans have voiced a preference to it over Wilson’s newest, That Lucky Old Sun.

According to 27-year-old Wilson devotee Jason Brewer, who leads the expedition, as it were, originality is overrated in pop. He’s thrilled, in fact, to be lumped in with his heroes.

“Hey,” Brewer beams into the phone from his Charleston home, “we sound like an awesome band! I mean, if all the fans of the Beach Boys go out and buy our record, well that’ll make my life great! The thing is, the Beach Boys haven’t made a new record in a long time. If the 13,000 people a week that buy a Beach Boys reissue want something new in that style, here it is.”

Brewer concedes, however, that he’d be “a completely pompous, self-righteous, delusional maniac” if he didn’t expect people to call him on his overtly Wilsonian composition and production style.

“That would be about as smart of me,” he laughs, “as Vanilla Ice denying that he sampled Queen!”

His only complaint is that, while critics swoon over his Brian Wilson simulations, many have missed his other glaring influences.

“Sure,” Brewer admits, “I love Brian Wilson. But I also love Phil Spector, the Mamas and the Papas, the Association, and all that stuff. I mean, the last tune on this record sounds, to me, like a bad Wings outtake with Billy Preston on organ. And no one, in any of the reviews, has picked up on the fact that ‘If You Go’ sounds like a Jimmy Webb/Glen Campbell song. I’m a huge fan of Jimmy Webb’s writing for Campbell and for the Fifth Dimension.”

In the final analysis, Klaatu seem to have come by their emulation and adulation organically, while the Explorers Club took a more self-conscious route. But as Brewer sees it, if you don’t like the now sounds of today, why not say yes to yesterday?

“I have the taste of a guy 30 years older than myself,” the Myrtle Beach boy proclaims proudly, “and I feel I can write songs in this style easier than I could write modern rock songs, ‘cause I never get into modern rock songs. If I was to turn on the radio today and hear ‘Cherish’, ‘The Beat Goes On’, and ‘Da Doo Ron Ron’ all in a row, I’d be totally stoked, you know?”

Listen: Klaatu, “California Jam“  [at youtube.com]

Watch: The Explorers Club, “Do You Love Me?“  [at youtube.com]

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