The missing link that few knew was missing, Rocket from the Tombs existed for barely eights months, and left behind virtually nothing to prove that they’d ever existed: three songs broadcast on the radio and the memories of those who’d seen them in their hometown of Cleveland. A solitary suburban gig was as far out of town as the band ever got. So why, almost 30 years later, have the remaining Rockets reformed to play a series of shows across the Northeast?

Laughs guitarist Cheetah Chrome (a.k.a. Gene O'Connor), "Can't be popular demand."

Of course, if you recognize Chrome's name, you know why the Rockets' upcoming North Star show, which closes out a solid week of touring, is, or at least should be, one of the most eagerly anticipated musical events of the year. If the band never caused so much as a blip on the cultural radar outside of their hometown, you can hardly say the same of the groups its members went on to form. Chrome and drummer Johnny Madansky (later Johnny Blitz) hooked up with fellow Clevelander Steve Bator, better known as Stiv Bators, and formed The Dead Boys, who distilled the Rockets' anguished howl into a white-lightning scream. Singer David Thomas, then going by the name Crocus Behemoth, went on to form Pere Ubu, whose early recordings, best heard on the collection Terminal Tower, are a uniquely powerful fusion of adolescent disillusionment and turbulent art-rock, and who've remained a consistently vital (if often overlooked) force in American music ever since.

Nowadays, Thomas adds wryly from his home in London, "it's a supergroup, if you use that terminology." That's even more true with the addition of Television guitarist Richard Lloyd, substituting for the late Peter Laughner, who spiraled into decline and eventually overdosed after the band's breakup without ever putting a long-term band together. (Scattered recordings were posthumously collected on Take the Guitar Player for a Ride.) Original bassist Craig Bell and recent Ubu drummer Steve Mehlman fill out the lineup.

For decades, Rocket from the Tombs material had circulated on a variety of often abysmal-sounding bootlegs, but it wasn't until the release last year of The Day the Earth Met the Rocket from the Tombs (Smog Veil) that more than the most intrepid fans got a chance to hear what all the fuss was about. (At least more than a cursory chance; two songs were included on a Pere Ubu box set several years ago.) Though "legendary" often means no more than "unavailable," The Day the Earth is one archival release that lives up to its billing. The sound quality is widely variable -- and that after Thomas omitted some widely bootlegged performances when suitably recorded versions couldn't be found -- but the sense of discovery is still heady. Even familiar songs like "Sonic Reducer" and "30 Seconds Over Tokyo," which became signature numbers for The Dead Boys and Pere Ubu respectively, seem as if they've just been unearthed, utterly transformed -- or perhaps more accurately, unmade. Rather than dissolving into a freeform cloud, "30 Seconds" explodes into a frenzied jam reminiscent of MC5's "Black to Comm," while a slowed-down "Sonic Reducer" is more frightening and less confrontational than The Dead Boys' version, a slow knife in the ribs rather than a shove in the chest. For the upcoming tour, the band has dusted off the old versions, much to Thomas' delight. "It's great to be able to reclaim ŒSonic Reducer' from The Dead Boys, whose version I never liked," says Thomas. "I think it's one of the great songs of that era."

According to both Thomas and Chrome, the reunion, including Lloyd's enlistment, went off without a hitch. Thomas and Chrome hadn't spoken for 20 years, spurred by a dispute over The Dead Boys' appropriation of "Sonic Reducer," which the two co-wrote, though the other Dead Boys take songwriting credit, and thus a piece of the publishing royalties, on their albums. (The Day the Earth restores the proper credit, and perhaps as a peace offering, Thomas is taking the lead vocal duties on the song, despite the fact that Chrome originally sang it.) The two had gigged together sporadically over the past several years, and by the time they assembled the CD, it seemed that bygones were already bygones. In February, Thomas curated the latest of his traveling art and music "Disastodrome" festivals, and when he suggested that Rocket from the Tombs should play the show, the dominoes fell into place.

In a manner of speaking, that is. The disparate musical leanings that went into the Rockets' potent brew were still bubbling just below the surface. "This was a group with four really strong songwriters, and certainly at least three who would've lead their own bands in normal circumstances, all uncompromising sons-of-bitches-type people who wanted their own way and would do anything to get it," Thomas says. "It was a volatile group. It's still a volatile group, which is very reassuring. We've broken up seven times in four rehearsals. The first rehearsal we had, we broke up, people storming out the door, within 10 minutes -- which was very gratifying. The passion and the commitment are undiminished over the decades."

Chrome, who now lives in Nashville, counters, "There's nothing destructive. We just care a lot about the music. When you feel strongly about things, you're bound to do a little saber-rattling here and there."

"The thing that binds the thing is that once we get on stage it is a kind of unrelenting attack, and really a lot of fun to do," says Thomas. "Plus we all just like each other personally, even if we can't get along professionally." Good feelings or no, Thomas isn't promising this new Rocket from the Tombs will be around any longer than the original. Though he's intrigued by the possibility of writing and recording new Rocket from the Tombs material, Thomas says he is "studiously avoiding" future plans, waiting to see if their first-ever tour will weld them together or blow them apart. "This thing won't last long, but it'll burn very brightly," he says. "It'll be a short, intense experience. That's what we're looking forward to."

Rocket from the Tombs plays Sun., June 8, 9 p.m., $12-$15, with Pure Hell, The North Star, 27th and Poplar sts., 215-684-0808.