Editor’s note: this article contains language and subject matter that some readers may find offensive. Reader discretion advised.

Photo by Brittany Woolsey.

Sean Hart and Robert Selander grew up in Salt Lake City, where they practiced Mormonism. Everything was swell, but something—a desire, a longing for more or maybe just a mission call from Joseph Smith—told them they needed to head to Los Angeles. And there, they found their holy grail: punk rock music.

This is, at least, the story they tell on stage. In reality, the duo are an Angeleno-bred set of comedians simply searching for a little more meaning through punk. Formerly an acoustic pair called The Smiths, performing hits by Stevie Wonder and Kenny Loggins, Hart and Selander knew punk rockin’ was their calling after learning about the likes of The Vandals and Leftover Crack.

That’s when they formed Tartar Control.

“We were taken aback,” Selander said. “After that, it was one of those things where you see something once and you’re slightly revolted, then you think about it for a few days and you’re obsessed. We started playing around with different sounds and, after a while, we decided we wanted our own punk rockin’ band.”

There was just one problem: they needed bass and percussion. With Hart on guitar and Selander on screaming vocals, the band was lacking a much-needed rhythm section. Luckily, they ran into a perverted, drunken robot uniquely named Robot, who filled the void (though he lacked the same morals as the bible-thumping Hart and Selander).

Since its formation in 2007, Tartar Control has played a variety of shows, from ones in living room-sized venues to larger ones like the annual Punk Rock Bowling Festival in Las Vegas. At these shows, big and small, the band has had full pitchers of beer dunked on them, as well as almost scraped their faces against popcorn ceilings as they crowdsurfed.

Their next show brings them to Long Beach—where they’ve hit the stage of Alex’s Bar before while opening for TSOL—when come Saturday at the Gaslamp, they’ll be spreading their words about Jesus, sodomy and peach cobbler.

While Tartar Control has gained a following in the punk scene, they know their music won’t be accepted everywhere, especially in the Mormon church.

“Mormonism and punk rock don’t blend together at all. Our church doesn’t know we’re in a band, and neither do our parents,” Selander said. “We’re going to assume the Mormon church is going to ignore the Long Beach Post. But you never know. They have tentacles everywhere.”

Still, Tartar Control insists their lyrics, with titles like “Satanists are Fuckin’ Dicks,” “Brush Your Fuckin’ Teeth,” and “Cramps Don’t Mean You’re Pregnant,” are positive messages.

“I feel like punk rock and metal of the harder core tend to get unfairly labeled,” Hart said. “For music, as long as you’re there speaking the truth, you have a voice. We’re certainly not fundamentalists in any sense of it. We’re not Amish. We’re not churning butter. I feel like music in general is something that people approach with a much more open mind.”

They also said they also like singing about things they know, like traffic on the way to Ralph’s, and things they enjoy, like Pokemon. (They’re partial to Charizard and Mewtwo.) Selander hopes to eventually incorporate Jigglypuff’s theme into their set to help audience members get sleep.

“If I could lull an entire audience to sleep, I would think that would be a gift in itself and a mission accomplished,” he said. “Who doesn’t enjoy a good night’s sleep?”

With positive vibes like these, the group said the most vulgar piece of their performance is Robot, who goes out to party every night at 8PM but still manages to arrive to shows on time. But there’s a reason for this. Quoting Robot himself, he said he’s “just there for the bitches.”

As Hart and Selander play sweet songs like “Jesus is Love” and “Fuzzy Bunnies,” Robot constantly interrupts the show by catcalling to women in the crowd while playing ’90s R&B from his speaker.

“Robot will find his own road to recovery, for sure,” Hart said. “He seems to find a woman at every show and harrass her. He’s kind of a womanizer. We don’t ask him a lot of questions about where he goes at night. He used to live in our garage, but he must still go through there because I’ve found so many Four Loko cans that look like they’ve all been opened with a can opener, so we know it’s him.”

Hart added that several child support notices have showed up at their apartment for Robot.

“I opened one and I think he’s the father to several children,” he said. “I don’t know how that’s physically possible, but somehow he’s in charge of someone’s child.”

This odd blend of crudeness from Robot and angelic playfulness from Selander and Hart has garnered them a following that crowd funded a television pilot, which can be viewed on Tartar Control’s YouTube channel. The group hopes to release the second episode within the next year.

Tartar Control looks forward to spreading the good news of Jesus in Long Beach this weekend, but just has one request of audience members.

“I would like people to know it’s okay to put on deodorant before they come to our shows,” Selander said. “It’s okay to be clean. You can wear your black clothes and put all the glue you want in your hair, but it’s okay to take a shower because the glue won’t wash out.”

Tartar Control plays at the Gaslamp Restaurant & Bar, located at 6251 E. Pacific Coast Highway, on Saturday with a set time beginning at about 5:30PM. The show is all ages and tickets are $10 on the Gaslamp website or $15 at the door.