E-Mail This Article to a Friend Dynamic duo Big Business reveal the nice side of extreme BY KURT B. REIGHLEY

Words like "heavy" and "extreme" don’t quite cut it for Big Business. There’s something more visceral about the Seattle duo’s debut, Head for the Shallow, which was released in January by Hydra Head Industries, a label founded by Aaron Turner of the Boston metal monolith Isis. You could take an extra-strength muscle relaxant, head for the sauna of a Russian bathhouse, and let a masseur named Igor pummel your body into submission while a troupe of Japanese taiko drummers bang out a high-speed version of "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida." Or you could just go check the band out in person this Saturday at the International Community Church in Allston.

Produced by Phil Ek (Modest Mouse/Built To Spill), the eight cuts on Shallow are turbo-propelled by deep, dirty, throbbing bass played by Jared Warren. He also sings, wailing as if the only albums he’d been exposed to during the first 15 years of his life were Black Sabbath and the fourth Led Zeppelin LP, even if he later discovered Jane’s Addiction. As he navigates the songs’ tricky time signatures, drummer Coady Willis bangs away like a man intent on shattering his cymbals. Yet amid all this muscular pounding and rumbling bass noise, there’s a pop sensibility that informs each track — even juggernauts like "O.G." and the jittery "Easter Romantic." "Focus Pocus," for example, recalls the Runaways’ proto-punk anthem "Cherry Bomb," albeit after near-lethal doses of steroids.

As is the current fashion, all this glorious, intricate noise is made by just two guys. They’re nice guys, too: you could bring them home to mom and even grandma without scaring anyone. As powerful as the muscular music is, Big Business are not your typical long-haired, head-banging hashers. "Heavy music gets a bad rap in terms of being macho and misogynistic," says Warren as he and Willis settle in with drinks at a Seattle bar. He should know: his résumé includes playing in KARP, Tight Bros from Way Back, and the Whip. "For years, hard-rock shows were a place for women to hold their boyfriends’ coats while the men went off to mosh. I think the ’90s changed that, but there is still that stigma attached to heavy music, and we struggle with it. I don’t want us to be exclusive to the segment of society that just wants to kick some ass. I want to be female-friendly. I want people to feel comfortable coming to our shows — not like they might get beat up there. That’s not what we’re about."

"Of course, you can’t choose your audience," Willis interjects. He learned that the hard way during his years with controversial Seattle punks Murder City Devils, a band lots of folks loved to hate. "You don’t get to pick who likes your music. In the Devils, we got bummed out a lot because there would be these fucking jarheads who’d show up and just want to party."

Having lived in the indie-rock capital of Olympia during the heyday of riot grrrl, Warren in particular seems keen to welcome fans of all stripes, not just heterosexual Caucasian males. "Bikini Kill were one of the first bands I ever saw, when I was 16, and they were devastating. Frightening. They were a very real presence that forced me to think — whether I wanted to or not — about women’s politics, just from being in a room with that many forward-thinking people."

That’s a big leap from the views espoused by the first band to frighten Warren: Kiss. On that point Willis agrees: "When I was little, the sleeve of Alive II scared the shit out of me."

Warren continues, "I remember an older cousin gave me a hand-me-down poster of Gene Simmons, and I wouldn’t put it up on my wall because he also told me this story that one day, Gene Simmons was walking down the street and two kids came up and said, ‘Hey, you’re in Kiss . . . ,’ and he blew fire on them! I had never even listened to Kiss — I was only six — but I was terrified because I thought they were these crazy monsters who burned up children."

No, deep thoughts about the nature of music and gender aren’t the first thing the monolithic metallic punk of Big Business brings to mind. But they’re at the heart of what Warren and Willis have set out to do. "Forward-thinking heavy bands have to work harder," Warren says. "Hopefully people will look at the way we put out our records, and how we tour, and what we choose for cover art, and they’ll see that we’re not douche bags. And we have Kathleen Hanna’s blessing . . . so we’re gonna be okay."

Big Business join the Blood Brothers this Saturday, May 21, at the International Community Church, 557 Cambridge Street in Allston; call (617) 782-8120.