POP REVIEW : CAMEO WINS FUNK FANS WITH SLY WIT

You can probably count on one thing with Cameo, judging from its sterling, hour-plus set at the sold-out Santa Monica Civic Friday: Any curious newcomers lured in to the group’s live performances by its recent string of seductive pop hits--”She’s So Strange,” “Single Life” and “Word Up”--are going to walk out as confirmed fans.

The veteran, Atlanta-based unit has earned several gold records by building a strong R&B; fan base but the Top 10 pop chart standing of its current “Word Up” album signals its arrival as a significant crossover force. That’s heartening, because the success of Cameo’s brawny yet subtle funk indicates you don’t have to sanitize an individual sound and vision to realize that goal.

The set kicked into non-stop action from the moment group mastermind Larry Blackmon leapt from a sparkling metal coffin clad in a black body suit, red codpiece and thigh-high black vinyl boots. But the lanky vocalist didn’t hog the spotlight--the entire 13-piece ensemble, which included four keyboard players and a three-piece horn section, participated in a polished performance that revealed the considerable thought and care Cameo has put into developing its stage show.

The precision choreography was consistently unpredictable, entertaining and tailored to the individual songs rather than strictly adhering to funk conventions. Blackmon and vocalists/charter members Nathan Leftenant and Tomi Jenkins smoothly segued from elasticman body bends into high-stepping marionettes during one striking segment.

Even the fairly frequent bump-and-grind routines were delivered with tongue-in-cheek humor. There probably wasn’t a spontaneous second in the set, but Cameo was theatrical in the best sense, where the visual element enhances the performance rather than serving to camouflage weaknesses in the music.

And Cameo’s outstanding performance skills were matched by the powerful impact and diversity of its music. The group seamlessly grafted idiosyncratic melodic and textural touches onto the myriad of styles--ranging from a straight blues to hip-hop rhythms, rap vocals to close harmonies, ballads to jackhammer metal funk--it employed over its slinky, streamlined funk grooves.

The full-bore musical assault did cause some subtleties, particularly on a pair of ballads early in the set, to disappear. But that hardly mattered when Cameo closed with the sly and spartan, serious yet silly trilogy of hits--”She’s Strange,” “Single Life” and “Word Up”--that proved its mastery of funk with brains as well as a monster beat.

The contrast with second-billed Full Force couldn’t have been more pronounced. The Brooklyn-based sextet has a strong track record as the writing/production team, but the absence of the studio’s sheen mercilessly exposed its instrumental shortcomings during a 45-minute set.

Full Force seemed less concerned with its music than presenting a beefcake repertoire of pelvic thrusts designed to . . . um . . . make the full force of their amorous intentions obvious to the audience. The peak--or nadir--of the set came when muscular vocalists Paul Anthony and Bow-Legged Lou sandwiched a female audience volunteer for some mock-erotic wiggling.

Paul Anthony then made the Chippendale’s connection explicit by stripping down to his briefs for some bump and grinds that were executed without a redeeming shred of self-parody. The Boogie Boys, accompanied by backing tapes, opened with 20 minutes of forgettable, regulation-issue rapping which only stirred the audience during its ’85 hit “Fly Girls.”