Who needs a release show with these 2 hot 'tweeners?

Bands get all fired up about "CD-release shows" — and who can blame them? They've poured quarts of sweat and countless hours and all the creativity they can muster and (quite often) all the money they can round up into this little piece of plastic. They deserve to celebrate.

But we, the fans, what do we care? It's a finished product, and now the band with the new CD will be carefully trying to re-create the finished version.

It's more fun, really, to catch a band in between albums. You'll hear new songs that are works-in-progress, still lumps of clay being sculpted before your very eyes/ears. And when the CD comes out months later, you can listen to it and say, "Ah, so that's what they did with this song ... "

This is a tale of two bands, both young and emerging, both riding swells of critical acclaim and local success they achieved in 2007, both still discovering themselves and figuring out the paths they will stake through the musical wilderness ... both in between albums.

• The Whore Moans are one of those bands who named themselves as a joke (while fishing for something that sounded like the Ramones), and now have to live with it.

The band's first full-length album, "Watch Out For This Thing," reveled in Murder City Devils-style party-rock numbers, complete with the throaty vocals and over-dramatic lyrics.

While that album was, despite the obvious influences, pretty good, the Whore Moans are one of those bands you have to see live to really "get." In concert, they are full or rage and passion, one blistering riff after another and voices (three of them sing) that are not so much singing as cries for meaning in a dark void ... Something like that.

On this Thursday night, as they do on just about every Thursday night, the Whore Moans — Jason Kilgor, Ryan Devlin, Jonny Henningson, Nick Anderson, ranging in age from 22 to 25 — and various friends have gathered for a groovy-mellow "Family Night," sharing vegan dishes at Devlin's home in Fremont.

While they staunchly defend their raunchy name (says the excitable Anderson: "The only thing that bothers us is when people say 'that's a stupid name' — like we don't know it!"), the band is a bit sheepish about the Murder City Devils thing. They immersed themselves in that legendary Seattle punk band when they were teenagers, but now feel they are ready to free themselves of the shackles of Spencer Moody and company.

"Our songs have taken an almost academic turn," says Devlin, lanky and quietly intense, like a Dostoevski character in ripped jeans. "On the next album, the songs are going to be almost outside of ourselves."

"It's going to be the same intensity," adds the fullback-sized Henningson, "but not necessarily straight-ahead punk screaming. There's going to be a lot more pop on the new album, a lot of pop."

The Whore Moans will unveil "Nerve Tonic," "Dead Man's Drink" and a few other songs from the in-the-works album at Nectar Lounge tonight. Nectar is just down the hill from the Thursday-night dinner, where the band talked about how important every show is to them — no matter the venue, or the size of the crowd.

"We get really upset when we don't so something meaningful," Devlin stated. "If there's no moment of chaos, or rapture — we start getting really worried."

Seconded the shaggy Kilgor: "Every single show is a chance to make something happen."

• Meanwhile, in a basement near the Ballard Locks, a half-dozen intense musicians are going over new material in a vastly different style.

Like the Whore Moans, these Maldives (pronounced "mal-deevz," like the island nation) are in between albums, just getting arrangements figured out for a second album.

One look at this crew, and you realize this isn't your average Seattle rock band: banjo, violinist, pedal steel guitarist. These, along with more common guitar, bass and drums, create a gripping sound, drifting between alt-country and Crazy Horse-era Neil Young.

Pumping life into singer-songwriter Jason Dodson's mournful creations, this band at times sounds like The Band — not a coincidence, as the Canadian rock legends are a huge influence on Dodson. He grew up in Vancouver, where his music-loving mother played Willie Nelson, Dylan and the Stones, all of whom made a huge impression on him.

The Maldives songs started as his own solo efforts, until he slowly built this exceptional band: Jesse Bonn (guitar), Tim Gadbois (guitar), Ryan McMackin (drums), Chris Warner (bass), Chris Zasche (pedal steel), Seth Warren (violin), Kevin Barrans (banjo and ZZ Top beard) and Tomo Nakayama (percussion, when he's not busy with his other band, Grand Hallway).

While samples of songs and videos are up on www.myspace.com/themaldives, this is another band that must be witnessed in the flesh to be fully appreciated. The Maldives play the Tractor Tavern — a venue that is just about perfect for their sound (9:30 p.m. Saturday, $7).

Songs like "Blood Relations" and "Tequila Sunday" slowly grow from modest emotions into epic compositions, as the Maldives layer up and hit ferocious grooves.

These Maldives range in age from 25 to 31, with the rugged-looking Dodson on the high end. They are not against drinking, but this practice is a dry one, and the musicians dive into their song with quiet intensity — no messing around — as they prepare for their second album.

Dodson — perhaps more Tolstoy than Dostoevski — had assembled this band only shortly before recording the Maldives debut. "I don't think the first record sounded like them," Dodson said.

Before, they were playing his songs; now, they are playing their songs. "The lyrics are still about the same things," Dodson says, in his modest way, "simple things, love and death."

Tom Scanlon: tscanlon@seattletimes.com