POP REVIEW : FEAR’S TALENT REMAINS, BUT THE CHILLS ARE GONE

Fear was always one of those rare groups that lived up to its boastful name by vocalizing some of the most outrageous and obnoxious sentiments ever to come oozing out of the darkest recesses of a PA system.

Why, then, was the notorious Los Angeles punk band’s performance Friday at Spatz in Huntington Harbour such a mild affair?

It’s not because lead singer Lee Ving has toned down his super-macho stage persona. His breast-beating, expletive expounding and brew-spewing displays were as apparent as ever.

It’s not because the band has lost any of its musical punch. The group may have turned in a sloppy performance at a big punk roundup last year at the Olympic Auditorium in Los Angeles, but at Spatz the fearsome foursome delivered its music with a razor-edged precision that few rock groups--punk or otherwise--ever muster.

What’s caught up with--and overtaken--Fear is the fact that yesterday’s ravings are today’s new morality. In short, there’s no longer anything to fear about Fear itself.

In 1982, when Ving belligerently insisted “Let’s Have a War” (because “we need the space”), it was a grotesque exaggeration of then-repressed political frustration and aggression.

In 1985, however, after a fictional one-man blitzkrieg named Rambo has become a national hero, and President Reagan has joked about nuking the Soviet Union, the intended satire in a new Fear song like “Bomb the Russians” vanishes in the face of a new political mind-set.

Another damper on Fear’s first Orange County performance in more than a year was the placid reaction of a less-than-half-capacity audience. The group’s “let’s have a war” admonition used to be taken literally at least on the dance floor. But for this 50-minute workout Fear was greeted with a few cheers and even polite applause at the end of each song--mainstream rock audience etiquette previously and vigorously eschewed by punk fans.

Minus the electricity and sense of danger of a slam pit, Fear was just another band that some fans chose to ignore as they milled around and struck up conversations with one another.

Fear’s biggest unconquered hurdle is coming to terms with life after punk, although the four musicians certainly have the musical “stuff” to survive. Its best bet for the future would seem to lie less in outrageous political statements than in either disturbing character studies like “Strangulation” and “I Am a Doctor” or the perverse comedy of “The Mouth Don’t Stop (The Trouble With Women Is).”

The most impressive aspect of the songs from Fear’s new “More Beer” album is the way several fuse the passion of punk and the guitar histrionics of heavy metal with the focused energy and stylized humor that has always elevated Fear’s music above the punk standard.

If that approach can win the attention of more hard rock fans--a seemingly natural progression--the group might yet give mainstream rock ‘n’ roll something to Fear.