POP MUSIC REVIEW : BIG AUDIO DYNAMITE REVELS IN CLUB SCENE

It was no surprise to hear Mick Jones proclaim his preference for small clubs over large arenas as his group Big Audio Dynamite opened a seven-night engagement at a small club--the Roxy--Monday night.

After all, what rocker wouldn’t choose a club atmosphere over arena sterility? And in the case of Big Audio Dynamite, it’s not exactly like Phil Collins giving up a big payday at Dodger Stadium. B.A.D.’s seven nights at the 450-person-capacity Roxy would add up to a few full houses at the Palace, and to a bad night at the Hollywood Palladium.

But even for underdogs, the weeklong small-room booking (which concludes Sunday) is different enough to earn attention, and it should do the job of creating a buzz around town as the week proceeds. And on opening night the English band did capitalize on the intimate setting and potent sound at the Sunset Strip club.

Big Audio Dynamite is the right kind of group to pull off this kind of thing. The quintet comes in with both rock-star swagger and street credibility (as an extension, however stylistically remote, of the Clash). The band’s arty extensions of the Clash legacy and its polyglot of Third World musical elements have also brought it critical attention. And its unruly approach guarantees that things won’t be quite the same from night to night.

Leader Jones’ slightly slurred speech initially promised something really unruly, and he remained a feisty enough host to generate uncertainty and immediacy. For instance, he bantered with the ringsiders, in effect saying, “ it’s about time “ when the crowd’s applause finally warmed up after a few songs.

But the lanky singer-guitarist also remained in firm control of B.A.D.’s sound, and that sound was consistently strong: a rawer version of the tough, tuneful, percussive blend of funk, punk, pop, rap, reggae and you-name-it that carries the group’s vision of cultures in collision.

Now that Jones’ former Clash-mate Joe Strummer has come back to collaborate with him as a songwriter and record producer, B.A.D.’s songbook is even better, gaining some of the bittersweet edge of the Clash’s best “Sandinista”-era compositions.

It all came out loose and fiery on Monday, with plenty of visual stimulation as well: The pale, dark-eyed Jones flanked by flailing Rastamen Don Letts and Leo Williams, Jones whacking the mike-stand lower and lower as he acted out “Limbo the Law,” in contrast to keyboardist Dan Donovan, who looked like another one of the Sheen boys as he stood locked in intense concentration.

The band also indulged its preoccupation with Hollywood mythology by providing a constant stream of film clips on a screen at the side of the room--mainly footage of Big Audio Dynamite on and off stage interspersed with excerpts dominated by pinnacles of cinema mayhem (“Taxi Driver,” “Psycho,” “Scarface” et al.).

It was more a random visual drone than a coordinated commentary on the music, but now and then they managed to match. At one point the group was singing its plaintive refrain, “Sodom and Gomorrah, let the deejay play,” while on the screen a scene from “The Ten Commandments” showed the Israelites going wild for the golden calf. Not an exact parallel, but close enough for rock ‘n’ roll.