RECORD REVIEWS : Local Talent at Bat : A Look at Efforts by Bands Trying to Make Mark in Area Before Shooting for the Big Time

Some rockers start their recording careers as coveted bonus babies, signed to six-figure contracts after bidding wars by record companies who rival major league baseball owners in their willingness to throw money at talent.

Then there are the sorts of rockers reviewed below. Most are bands trying to establish themselves on the local scene with do-it-yourself-efforts before they begin thinking of bigger things. The well-produced compact discs by Standing Hawthorne and Soul Scream show that good sound quality isn’t out of a do-it-yourselfer’s reach. Also included are a couple of releases on independent labels: Peter Shambrook’s debut on Frontline Records, the local Christian music company, and a limited-edition Christmas compilation from bands on Doctor Dream Records.

The ratings scale ranges from (poor) to (excellent). Three stars is a solid recommendation.

*** Soul Scream “Soul Scream”

Soul Scream leaves itself open to a common complaint about new bands: They tend to regurgitate their influences. A leading source here is Morrissey, whose influence is a mixed blessing. On the plus side, Soul Scream takes away some good general principals: Listening to Morrissey and his old group, the Smiths, evidently has taught the band the value of a catchy tune, a clean, textured sound and a wryly literate lyric. Sometimes, though, singer Dave Tetreault goes too far and slips into the arch, ironic vocal mannerisms of the ostentatiously mopey Brit. He’s better off singing with forthright clout, as he does on R&B-influenced; songs like “Free Without It” and “Hello.”

At its most derivative, Soul Scream still manages to come up with a deliciously bouncy pop nugget, “Woke Up in the Kitchen.” It’s one of several humorous, true-ringing vignettes on the album depicting post-adolescent thrashing about in search of balance and identity. At the same time, Soul Scream also has the makings of a distinctive sound, keyed by a prolific and resourceful lead instrumentalist, saxophonist Kirk Tracy. On a couple of songs, Tracy is joined by a full horn section, producing the kind of wallop and swing that hasn’t been heard on the local rock scene since El Grupo Sexo broke up four years ago. A punchy and assured rhythm section and some vibrant guest solo turns by former Eggplant guitarist Jon Melkerson are other highlights on this well-crafted CD.

As much as it shows its influences, Soul Scream has the makings of a band with a point of view, a knack for melody, and the ability to rock effectively, even at lighter dynamics. This is an enjoyable beginning for a band that bears watching.

(15802 Springdale St., Huntington Beach, Calif., 92649)

***

Peter Shambrook “Peter Shambrook”

Frontline Records

This transplanted Australian could sing the proverbial phone book and sound great. The Irvine-based Shambrook has a major league voice, a tenor made up of contrasting textures, both reedy and full-bodied. It yields an easy pop appeal, but also the grit necessary to register passion. Shambrook’s singing frequently brings to mind a gutsier version of Phil Collins. In short, he has the stuff of a first-class, blue-eyed soul man.

Produced by Rick Elias, Orange County’s finest Christian rocker (at least, that is, until his recent move to Nashville), the album showcases Shambrook’s voice in a variety of settings--from the slick, contemporary pop sheen of “Ain’t Too Late” to the aching piano balladry of “The Naked Man,” to the Stones-meet-Creedence crunch of “Jungle Drum” (an offbeat tale about a Christian biker doing battle with foreign drug lords). As a songwriter, Shambrook fully exploits his vocal gifts with challenging melodies, but his lyrics tend to be on-the-surface professions of faith that could benefit from more storytelling and less conventional imagery. Still, he strives for more than cheer-for-Jesus exhortations in songs that typically depict religious faith and romantic love as sources of joy that can be achieved only after testing and struggle.

(P.O. Box 28450, Santa Ana, Calif., 92799)

** 1/2

Standing Hawthorne

“Oh My Mother of Loachk”

Green Records

On stage, this Mission Viejo band can seem forced and self-conscious as it strains for the stature to put across earnest, politically and spiritually aware songs that echo U2, Big Country and R.E.M. But on CD, Standing Hawthorne has stretched out and given a varied, fuller-sounding accounting of itself.

Singer Paul Shulte tends to oversell the anthems with his breathless, nasal, cry-in-the-wind delivery. He’d be better off holding back a bit. The wistful, dreamy “Candy Lane,” depicting a state of childlike reverie apparently achieved through hallucinogens, finds him in a more natural element.

The 14-song collection takes some surprising twists, such as the mildly funky “Helluvalady,” in which the band shows some sexy sass, and the blast-force Cult-like metal of “Sin.” Piano, organ and even a chamber string ensemble round out other tracks. Best of all, the studio frees guitarist Chris Karn, a strong player, to experiment with more ambitious sound combinations. Not everything clicks, but nearly every track offers something worthwhile--a catchy hook, a ferociously played riff, a nicely textured arrangement, or a genuinely felt emotion.

(26635 Saddleback, Mission Viejo, Calif., 92691)

** 1/2

“The White Christmas Album”

Doctor Dream Records

Some independent alternative rock labels cultivate a readily identifiable sound. This compilation, featuring nine bands on the Doctor Dream roster, illustrates the company’s admirable lack of use for unifying orthodoxies.

Some bands play it reverently, as in Walking Wounded’s lovingly straightforward country reading of Merle Haggard’s “If We Make It Through December.” It’s an all-too-timely song about Christmas darkened by economic desperation.

Others go for whimsy, including, not surprisingly, the Swamp Zombies. Their take on “Mr. Heat Miser,” from the holiday cartoon “The Christmas That Almost Didn’t Happen,” is about one-third smart-alecky wisecracks and two-thirds childlike enthusiasm--an appealing balance.

Don’t Mean Maybe makes the worst choice, with its flaccid lounge-act spoof of “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” They’d have been better off following the lead of Joyride, which sets aside any joshing and delivers what it does best: a careening, straightforward punk-pop run through “The Little Drummer Boy.” The Cadillac Tramps also stay in character, with a bar-blues version of Elvis Presley’s “Santa’s Back in Town” that is notable mainly for a couple of slicing guitar solos.

Food For Feet is the most ambitious, turning “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” into a dark, art-rock epic with some quasi-metal wailing from singer John Avila. The compilation, available only by mail order or by phone, includes two originals. Eggplant alumnus Jeff Beals serves up sweet whimsy about Santa Claus that some may find charming and others cloying. The Black Watch, from Los Angeles, gets depressed by the holiday in a Cure/R.E.M. echo that is a little too predictable in its account of family dysfunction.

(841 W. Collins, Orange, Calif., 92667; (714) 997-9387)

** 1/2 Dada Oboe

“Dada Oboe”

This Orange County/Long Beach band goes for the rough stuff with noisy guitars and driving rhythms, and usually flexes its power convincingly on this cassette release. Singer Isaac Guzman has a throaty rasp that echoes Iggy Pop and Billy Idol. While he tries to stretch his limited range with an assortment of whoops and swaggering theatrics, Guzman’s voice becomes wearing over the course of the album.

The first side is mainly about sexual abandon, portraying erotic clinches in hothouse language. Sometimes the performances capture the heat of the encounter (“Candy” and “Calico”); sometimes they’re merely overheated. The more sensory overload Dada Oboe can create with its swarming attack (as on the aptly titled “Loud”), the better it comes off.

(Team Zenith, 744 Redondo Ave., Long Beach, Calif., 90804)

** 1/2

The Haze

“The Haze”

There’s a haze of hippiedom running through this San Clemente band’s music. For the most part, the Haze echoes the woody-but-psychedelic sound of ‘60s San Francisco rock but does it without overtly copying any single band.

Lyrically, the Haze offers unremarkable celebrations of nature and Aquarian catch phrases (“Let the magic of the moment set you free”). But several of the songs on this six-track cassette explode into surging, high-spirited choruses. There’s also a wistful acoustic love song, “Lion and the Rose,” that takes on a British folk hue, with vocals recalling a gentle, reedy Graham Nash. At its best, the Haze rises above rehash and captures some of the timeless appeal of melodic, optimistic ‘60s rock.

(P.O. Box 187, San Clemente, Calif., 92674-0187)