What's in a name, anyway?

After all, local band Kofi accidentally took the same moniker as a female British artist whose music bassist Matt Breit scathingly referred to as "neo-soul elevator jazz."

James Tyler, who plays the djembe, suggested that maybe they shouldn't be saying those kinds of things during an interview, but trumpet player Jeff Tomwell interjected, somewhat vehemently.

The source of the animosity stems from a fan of that singer, who chastised Kofi for its so-called poor job of researching band names in a recent e-mail message. Always the pacifists, the band changed its name on paper to FatsKofi, in homage to venerated musicians Fats Waller and Fats Domino.

Which is really just incidental. Onstage, the band still goes by Kofi and lets the music do the talking, though seeing the guys perform on a regular basis is currently up in the air.

Last semester, Kofi enjoyed a weekly gig at the downtown nightspot Bar Bleu, 114 S. Garner St. But now band and bar have parted ways in what classical guitarist Matt "Sticky" Thren called a mutual split.

He said the upscale nature of Bar Bleu prevented the band from reaching a more "collegiate" audience. Musically, Kofi was given the freedom to do what it wanted, but from a business end, it just didn't make sense.

"When you're losing fans because of the bar management, it's time to leave," Thren said. "College kids want good specials and good music."

Bar Bleu manager Mark Greiner was also pretty amicable concerning the split, though he wasn't on the same page about the bar's environment.

"I totally disagree; we do very well with the college crowd," he said. "It's a very nice bar, but it's a different atmosphere."

"I don't think they'd have a problem getting a gig anywhere," he added.

With offers from both The Brewery, 223 E. Beaver Ave., and Zeno's, 100 W. College Ave., Kofi agrees that finding a place to play once a week isn't a problem, if that were what the band wanted.

Thren said it really comes down to a musical decision. Rather than going through the motions every week, the band prefers to keep it fresh by taking the time to create new and interesting music.

But at the same time, this opens the group up to the woes of playing original music in a town where bar patrons demand to be entertained by human jukeboxes.

"[Bars] are so quick to cut you off," Tyler said, referring to creative license and not a drink limit. "They give you a really short leash."

Just as the band avoids labeling itself with its name, Kofi doesn't get hung up on classifying its music. Thren called it jazz but said there are definitely lots of non-jazz elements. The members like to improvise, with solos courtesy of Thren, Chuck Brantman on the keys, and Tomwell's trumpet.

In fact, Tomwell is a recent addition, after impressing Thren with his abilities in a jazz improvisation class. So is he working out?

"I work out twice a day," he asserted. "I'm huge."

Tyler concurred, sort of. "He pulls his weight," he said. "All 97 pounds."

The band's sound continues to evolve. Kofi finds it pretentious when a band uses 50 adjectives to describe itself on a flier, so to encapsulate the music in a goofy way that doesn't really make sense, Breit did it in just three words: "tribeospheric teflon funk."

"Between six of us, of course we have so many different influences; it's ridiculous to sort them all out," Breit said.

"Kofi is my biggest influence," Tomwell said.

"Alcohol's mine," Tyler said. "Whiskey, single-malt."

Breit agreed that all the members have a clear clinical alcohol dependency.

"Wouldn't it be great to get paid to drink?" Tyler mused.

"That's essentially what we're trying to do," Tomwell pointed out.