POP MUSIC REVIEW : Feisty Performance by the Cerebral Mekons

England’s Mekons, who refer to themselves in song with only slightly less mock-mythic regularity than Bo Diddley, have titled their latest album “The Curse of the Mekons.” On stage at the Whisky on Wednesday, principal singer Jon Langford cheekily explained this hex as “the curse that shall condemn people to the ice giants’ lair should they cross the Mekons one more time.”

Much easier to envision is the curse on the Mekons--given that, in the seminal punk band’s long-suffering tradition, the American record company to which they’re still under contract declined to release this “Curse.”

Even for a fan, it’s not hard to see the label’s point of view. The Mekons, who also played Thursday at Bogart’s in Long Beach, are too cerebral for their own commercial good. And after the witty, Clash-like roar of the last album (the anthemically tongue-in-cheek “Rock ‘n’ Roll”), the new one--available only as an expensive, elusive import--marks a more sober return to bitterly existential atmospherics, often lacking the visceral charge even their most intellectual cronies crave.

At the Whisky, though, the band was wisely caving in to dreaded rock convention and playing more like the feisty outfit heard on the previous album than the moody one on the latest album --the emphasis on cranking guitars to match the cranky socialism and fatalism espoused. Langford and co-founder Tom Greenhalgh had the Strummer/Jones-style rougher/gentler (but equally accented) vocal trade-offs down pat, with third singer Sally Timms the concurrent voice of lovely reason.

Meanwhile, Susie Honeyman’s fiddle--which often subliminally doubled the rough lead guitar lines--may be the first violin to sound utterly at home in a rock ‘n’ roll band, John Mellencamp notwithstanding.