POP MUSIC REVIEW : A Successful Attack on the Home Front : Social Distortion displays its customary blunt virtues before a full house at UC Irvine.

Social Distortion fights its rock ‘n’ roll battles in much the same way that Ulysses S. Grant fought the Civil War. No feinting tactics, no dashing finesse. Just a full, frontal attack and a rough, unrelenting grind that succeeds through sheer superiority of force.

The Orange County band was back on the home front Saturday night, playing to a full house of 2,000 at UC Irvine’s Crawford Hall, a small gymnasium that doubles as a concert venue. The 80-minute show held no surprises for veteran Social D fans, many of whom probably were among the multitude that swarmed without letup in a massive thrash pit in front of the stage. The band was in fine form, though, displaying its customary blunt virtues.

It’s not a band that possesses, or needs, virtuosity. Drummer Christopher Reece and bassist John Maurer keep a basic, loose beat. Rhythm guitarist Dennis Danell’s job is to lay down a bottom layer of modulated white noise. That leaves Mike Ness to fill out the sound with his gravelly, nasal singing and noisy but well-constructed guitar leads.

Ness’ songwriting is blunt, too. Not much of a wordsmith, he relies instead on the simple authenticity of what he sings. Almost every Social Distortion song is an episode from Ness’ own life--first as a hellbent young punker with a legendary appetite for excess, and then as a survivor reflecting back on desperate times and the possible fates he has been spared.

While he saved himself and his band by giving up hard drugs and hard drinking a few years ago, Ness is still fascinated by, and probably in love with, the idea of excess. But besides being consumed with rock’s outlaw imagery (no band has the ‘50s tough-guy look down better than Social Distortion), Ness is also fascinated by, and clearly in love with, some of rock’s richest sources. The infusion of blues and country strains in Social Distortion’s sound lends a rough eloquence to a band that otherwise might be little more than a hard-driving battering ram.

On the surface, “Sick Boys,” played early in the set, is just a tough guy’s boast. But the catchy, countrified backing “la-la-la-las” and “oh-way-ohs” surrounding Ness’ lead vocals softened the toughness and lent an elegiac, bittersweet quality to the song. They formed a sort of unspoken commentary that underscored Ness’ central idea, that sick boys eventually have to get healthy or turn into terminal cases.

Matter-of-fact realism and absence of moralizing gave authority to such songs as “Prison Bound,” “Ball and Chain” and “Drug Train,” all of which imagine the fate of sick boys who fail to get well. Social Distortion also played charged versions of older songs such as “1945” and “Mommy’s Little Monster,” from Ness’ hell-raising period. Those signaled that, though more aware now, the band remains unrepentant about what came before.

The 16-song set included four new songs that signaled no new departures but reaffirmed Social Distortion’s commitment to roots exploration. “Cold Feelings in the Night,” a dark, driving rocker, was another look back on Ness’ desperate days: “I can’t separate my body from my mind. . . . I’m sick and tired of the politics of growing up.”

“Sometimes I Do and Sometimes I Don’t” conveyed confusion about life with a lighthearted hillbilly holler. Another favorite topic--lust--cropped up on “When She Begins,” a rowdy, rough-hewn country-rocker that could have been an outtake from “Exile on Main Street,” and on the tense blues-based song “Ready for Love,” which benefited from guest player Eric Von Herzen’s hard wailing on harmonica.

Ness also brought a special urgency to “Let It Be Me,” one of eight songs culled from the current “Social Distortion” album. (The band played only the title song from its previous record, “Prison Bound.”) Ness’ alarmed cries at the end of “Let It Be Me” made it more than a lust song. They suggested that reaching out sexually can leave the ego just as naked and needy as the body.

The challenge for Ness now is to evolve from the diarist he has been over Social Distortion’s three albums into a more artful storyteller with a wider range of subjects and emotional slants. Can the tattooed tough guy show a tender side, for instance? Or deal in metaphors as well as in concrete details? With Social Distortion’s first major-label album holding on tenaciously for five months now on Billboard’s list of the Top 200 albums, he’ll have the chance to grow up artistically in front of an expanding public.

Screaming Trees, from Seattle, opened with a half-hour set that was less dense and metallic than the signature Seattle sound exemplified by such Northwestern brethren as Soundgarden. Various facets of ‘60s psychedelia figured prominently, including some heavy blues derived from Jethro Tull’s earliest period.

Singer Mark Lanegan’s deep, husky voice echoed Jim Morrison, but it was coupled with a static stage presence. The band’s dynamic force was guitarist Gary Lee Conner, a hefty Leslie West for the ‘90s who careened around the stage like an oversized Angus Young. On stronger songs such as “Ocean of Confusion,” Screaming Trees showed an instinct for a melodic hook, but its songs were unfocused, and Lanegan did nothing to help bring them to life.