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'The last of lunchtime diners are dwindling at Tsunami downtown when I meet with Benjy Davis and Mic Capdevielle of Benjy Davis Project to talk about life after Rock Ridge Music released the band's fourth studio album, Lost Souls Like Us, in March. The guys order salads, sushi and beer, and sweating as much as the lemons in our glasses at the first real heat of the year, they fill me in on what's happening with the band.

Frontman Davis and drummer Capdevielle may have rocked out with Lynyrd Skynyrd's Mark Matejka and .38 Special's Danny Chauncey on their latest album, but Davis has been spending some time with musicians of a different kind-Cleveland rapper Kid Cudi and hip hop artist Bobby Ray out of Atlanta have not been far from his iPod lately.

So it's no coincidence that Lost Souls is the group's most eclectic effort to date. Some of those soulful influences have found a back way onto the album.

Davis, now 26, insists the record is not too serious. It's a recap of his musical career so far, he says, a venture that started more than 10 years ago when he and Capdevielle started making music together in high school.

"It's kind of a party atmosphere album, but sometimes you wake up in the morning, and you're sad about something," Davis says.

And soulful tracks like "Lay Your Hands on Me" have a story. He wrote the song as a teenager, and at the wrap of recording for Lost Souls, the producers stuck an intoxicated Davis with an acoustic guitar and told him to sing a few songs. He didn't even know he was being recorded.

"The last album sort of put a cap on some stuff," Davis says, obviously unwilling to spill any intense details. In fact, the once six-man band has been paired down to two original members. Davis works out the melodies. Capdevielle puts down the beats.

"There's two of us now-we'll go anywhere to do this thing," Capdevielle says.

Despite the drummer's West Coast get-up-a chocolate v-neck, skinny jeans and a felt hat tucked with feathers and buttons-these two are products of Baton Rouge, through and through, and Davis' lyrics are explicitly southern.

But Davis' songwriting has moved away from specific Louisiana overtones of late.

"I'm not trying to say Â‘Look, we're different,'" Davis says. "I'm trying to find similarities. Rivers are everywhere. Levees are everywhere, so I try not to be as specific as I used to be."

Davis misses home every time he tours-which is often-and having roots in a big, fast city don't make for a better musician.

Davis has never been to the rooftop restaurant before, or seen its views of Baton Rouge. From his pensive stroll around the roof on a cigarette break, his love for home is obvious.

This despite the trouble the band had connecting with other local groups early on.

"We felt like outsiders for a while, like, Â‘Why aren't we in that circle of friends?'" Capdevielle says.

Lost Souls was recorded at a studio owned by .38 Special keyboardist Bobby Capp in Hendersonville, Tenn., near Nashville. Capp saw the band play in Little Rock and invited them to record.

Over lunch, the guys laugh when Davis mixes up the waters on the table. When the waitress puts Davis' appetizer on Capdevielle's tab-$4 extra-the pair work it out with a simple, "You owe me a beer at Earl's tonight."

Capdevielle is married, and Davis is in a longterm relationship with Charlie Girl, his 7-year-old pit bull. He is in the process of moving after an unhappy landlord discovered the dog, but he's not sure where just yet. "I really identify with Up in the Air," Davis laughs. "I need another beer."

The guys spend the rest of the afternoon sipping beer, recounting Capdevielle's jury duty horrors and arguing over Biggie and Tupac. They talk about their dream tours. Davis wants to hit the road with The Kin and The Roots. Capdevielle just wants to see the West Coast and Europe.

Curious about a cordoned-off gallery in the Shaw Center as we make our way downstairs, Davis slides past the banner and rope, trespassing into the second floor gallery space. Nothing to see, he discovers. But that curious defiance is what has blazed the trail for Benjy Davis Project since the pair was in high school.

Success hasn't changed them much.'