POP REVIEW : Satellites Stay in Bar-Band Orbit at Coach House

Life is too short to drink bad beer, the saying goes, and a similar maxim should apply to bar bands. Along with whatever unaffected good-rockin’ they may represent, the sad truth is that most bar bands are numbingly commonplace.

There are certainly some groups that elevate party music to a high art, but the Georgia Satellites seemed more fated to rank as just another band when they hit in 1986, unequal to the attention brought by their left-field hit “Keep Your Hands to Yourself.” Their Coach House show Saturday, however, had moments that suggested the quartet may yet attain the sublime.

While the songwriting, singing and playing that went into the 24-song show didn’t offer much in the way of individuality or virtuosity--some points go to Rick Richards for his snarling slide-guitar work--they pumped plenty of spirit into several songs. The “White Album” Ringo track “Don’t Pass Me By” became a hard-rocking hot rod in their hands, matched by their own “Shake That Thing” and “Saddle Up.” Richards fronted a smoldering ballad version of the current “All Over But the Cryin’ ” while co-singer/guitarist Dan Baird led an uproarious, free-flying “Dan Takes Five.”

If more of their delivery were as unfettered, the Satellites would vie for greatness, but those moments were spread thin over a two-hour show. It was ultimately fatiguing hearing a group whose cultural matrix begins and ends with the Faces, with even such roots staples as “Great Balls of Fire” and George Jones’ “White Lightning” filtered through a ‘70s crunch-rock sensibility.

And like many a corner bar band, their covers of such songs as the Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated,” Elvis’ “Suspicious Minds” and the Stones’ “Let It Bleed” and “No Expectations” did nothing to wrest the tunes away from their original owners. Richards did earn one distinction with the latter song, though, when he stuck two burning cigarettes on his guitar’s peghead, one more smoke than even the most stellar British guitar heroes have attempted.

Opener Private Life was an unspectacular, metal Lite outfit. Guitarist Danny Johnson had a nicely edged, distorted tone and some speed runs that recalled the band’s album producer, Eddie Van Halen. Singer Kelly Breznik had a workably shrill post-Benatar voice. Combined, they provided a version of Van Morrison’s “Domino” that could likely put Morrison to sleep and then give him nightmares.