Things are going great for Silversun Pickups. They’ve just released the acclaimed new indie album (Carnavas) that follows the acclaimed indie EP (Pikul). Their frantic and anthemic rock has already made it onto a few soundtracks and the token Volkswagen commercial. If there’s a checklist for rising stars, Silversun Pickups pretty much have it covered.

“If there’s a checklist,” says frontman Brian Aubert, “send it over. That’ll make my life easier. We have no idea about our future. We’ve been together a long time, and we’ve seen scenes come and go, so we just play this music. I like that. I’ve always liked music where the band plays like they have no choice.”

That’s nothing new in a post-rock attitude. To his credit, though, Aubert doesn’t sound practiced. He seems downright proud of how the L.A. band has stumbled onto success. He speaks with the same cheery sincerity that, as Aubert puts it, keeps their music too nerdy to qualify as Goth.  

“We’d been in different bands,” Aubert says, “and were really just hanging out together. We got into a music festival off a boombox tape. It was, ‘Oh, great, now we have to play.’ From there, we just played endlessly. We’ve never known what we’re doing. The songwriting and the lyrics all came together onstage. I don’t know how any of this happened, but I’m glad it did. We felt so popular.”

Aubert is also ready for the world outside Los Angeles: “You should just be appreciative all the time. I’m talking to you right now in the van while we’re driving off to tour, with L.A. in the rearview mirror. It’s just amazing that we can do this on even a small scale. If we play somewhere and there’s five people, it’s a big deal.”

That honest enthusiasm keeps shining through. Silversun Pickups aren’t goofing on a big rock sound, and they’re not hearkening back to a more innocent time. Their high spirits—in person and on record—seem to come from the thrill of getting away with being musicians for another year.

“I don’t understand people who have plans,” says Aubert. “We’ve toured with bands who were having the worst time of their lives, because they’re so ahead of themselves. They feel that they deserve so much. Look, you don’t deserve anything. Even if you just made the greatest rock record of all time, you don’t deserve anything.”

So there’s some rock ’n’ roll heresy, too.

Then there’s more of the usual talk when a band’s coming to New York from L.A. We discuss what to expect from the weather, and the state of the city’s club scene. I complain that bands finish up way too early nowadays, and Aubert’s heard about that.

“We’re thinking about doing another show after the show at the Mercury Lounge,” he says. “I like that idea, bringing back the idea of just going all night.”

It’s true that used to be common, but I note that the second show was usually arranged as some sort of coke deal. 

“Oh,” Aubert adds, “we’re staying clear of the cocaine. We’re not ready to make that one album that we think is awesome and that everybody else thinks sucks. But if we do make that album, we’ll already be really rich.”

August 3. Mercury Lounge, 217 E. Houston St. (at Ave. A), 212-260-4700; 7:30, $10. (Also Aug. 7 Union Hall)