*** 1/2 CONCRETE BLONDE “Bloodletting” <i> I.R.S.</i>

A worthy successor to X as L.A.’s best alternative rock band, Concrete Blonde has always indulged in a similarly harrowing mix of faith and despair, set apart from the rest of the black-clad local pack by a determined refusal to give in to the latter. Johnette Napolitano sang George Harrison’s “Beware of Darkness” on the band’s ’87 debut and seemed to mean it. On this third album, though, which is probably their least commercial package, there’s a disquieting sense of succumbing.

The titles tell a lot: “The Sky Is a Poisonous Garden,” “Darkening of the Light,” “The Beast.” Here, “Love is the killer you thought was your friend,” or worse; in the title song, an old neck wound from a long-departed lover leaves Napolitano wandering among the walking dead, and salvation seems even more remote. The haunting, gorgeous “Tomorrow, Wendy,” written by Andy Prieboy, ends the album with the most bleak evocation of impending death possible.

The music, too, has taken a less frenzied turn, with more layered vocals and the absence of recently departed Harry Rushakoff’s Keith Moon-style drum licks. But the feistiness is far from gone; even in her most melancholy mode, Napolitano still sounds like a fighter. And in “Joey,” the one sort of hopeful, lilting, Pretenders-like tune, the band might have a shot at a hit. This “Bloodletting” is indeed dripping, and gripping, stuff.