POP MUSIC REVIEW : A Stylistic Crossroads for Satriani

Joe Satriani was down at the guitar hero’s crossroads Saturday night.

It wasn’t exactly the same one that Robert Johnson wrote the classic song about, the one that inspired the legend about the hot guitarist who meets Satan, presumably to negotiate a pact trading mortal soul for demonic instrumental prowess. But it wasn’t too far from that, either.

Headlining on a guitar-heavy bill at Irvine Meadows Amphitheatre, Satriani was at a stylistic crossroads. Stretching in one direction was a metal-influenced method full of technical flash and proven financial rewards. Stretching in the other was a less effusive, less noisy, but more evocative way of playing that dispensed with the post-Eddie Van Halen metal mannerisms and drew on more classic folk, rock and blues sources.

The San Francisco-based Satriani vaulted to prominence in 1988 with an all-instrumental album, “Surfing With the Alien,” that had enough heavy metal content to plug into the large, guitar-loving metal market. But his current album, “Flying in a Blue Dream,” points in other, more inventive directions.

On stage, Satriani was least involving when applying himself to the dive-bomber whangs, dentist-drill screams and two-hands-on-the-neck semiclassical bumblebee flights that now have become standard vocabulary in the hard rock guitar lexicon. Some of those techniques came together nicely on the cranking, set-closing freak-out, “Surfing With the Alien.” But for the most part, when Satriani’s metal instincts took over, it was time to sit back and wait for something more interesting to come around.

Satriani’s considerable range made it worth waiting out the dull stretches in a 105-minute show. His move toward vocal music on some of the “Blue Dream” material served him well--Satriani isn’t a great singer, but he was a reasonably expressive one who was able to carry the strong melody lines he has written for himself.

“Can’t Slow Down” sounded like a page out of Moby Grape’s hard-driving ‘60s psychedelia. Another highlight, the acoustic anthem-ballad “I Believe,” recalled Bruce Cockburn in its idealism and rippling guitar motion. “Big Bad Moon” turned up with a tough, straightforward blues-rock crunch derived from Hendrix and John Lee Hooker--a hard rock sound far more motivating than the Van Halen-style finger tricks.

Satriani also showed an appealing sentimental side with several pretty love ballads. His ace bass-playing sidekick, Stuart Hamm, used thumb-slapping techniques to lend a trebly, vibrating fullness to the rockers and delicate finger taps to complement the ballads with shimmering textures you’d normally hear played on acoustic guitar.

Judging from his low key, friendly stage demeanor and absence of contrived theatrics, Satriani isn’t necessarily trying to fit a guitar hero’s demonic mold at all. Still, he’s down at the crossroads, where there’s a choice to be made between easy lucre and soulful expression.

Second-billed Eric Johnson, a slender Texan with a hesitant stage manner, offered speed and accuracy galore, but his persistently clean, fluid guitar style made for sameness during a 45-minute set. Without raw edges--even his use of feedback sounded smooth and polite--the exhibition was something to be admired, but it didn’t cut deep.

Johnson’s high, grainy vocals were strong, with echoes of Bryan Adams, Don Henley and Jon Anderson of Yes, but neither his singing nor his material was distinctive. Johnson’s most charged playing came toward the end of this long night of guitars when he joined Satriani and Vivian Campbell of opening act Riverdogs for a rendition of Jeff Beck’s “Goin’ Down.” Then, Johnson’s liquid tone had the force and heat of a lava flow.

The big cheers during Riverdogs’ 30-minute set were for the lightning flashing in the sky a few miles from the amphitheater. All it brought, though, was an intermittent drizzle--both from the sky and from the band, which sounded like an even duller version of the Firm.